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ORACLES FROM THE POETS 



1 am Sir Oracle, 
And when I ope my lips let no dog bark. 

Merchant of Venice. 



ss 



ORACLES FROM THE POETS s i 



A FANCIFUL DIVERSION 



THE DRAWING-ROOM 



CAROLINE GIIMAN, 



The enthusiast Sybil there divinely taught. 
Writes on loose foliage inspiration's thought. 
She sings the fates, and in her frantic fits 
The notes and names inscribed to leaves commits. 

Dryden's and Symmon's Virgil, 

Macbeth. I conjure you, by that which you profess, 

(Howe'er you come to know it.) answer me. 
First Witch. Speak. 
Secojid Witch. Demand. 
TTiird Witch. We'U answer. 



NEW YORK: 
CLARK, AUSTIN & SMITH, 

3 PAKK ROW AND 3 ANN-STREET. 

1854. 



k^ 



3f\ "^"f^ 



< Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, 

\ By WILEY & PUTNAM. 

\ In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern 

\ District of New York. 

I oirr 

WRTRAM SMITH 



5^^-^ • -'f, .f 3S 



Siereotypeu by 

RICHARD C. VALENTINE, 

45 Gold-street, New Yorli. 



\ 



\ 



THE FOLLOWING PAGES, 



ORIGINALLY INTENDED FOR THEIR AMUSEMENT. 



ARE DEDICATED TO 



MY CHILDREN 



J 




PREFACE. 

WAS led to arrange " The Ora- 
cles FROM THE Poets," by observ- 
ing the vivid interest taken by 
persons of all ages in a very com- 
mon-place Fortune-Teller in the < 
hands of a young girl. It occur- 
red to me that I might avail myself of this love 
of the mysterious, for the intellectual enjoyment of 
my family circle. 

Instead, however, of the pastime of a few days, 
it has been the work of every leisure moment for | 
six months. The first movement was the pebble 
thrown into the stream ; circle after circle formed, 
until I found, with old Thomas Heywood, 

" My pen was dipt 
As well in opening each hid manuscript, 
As tracts more vulgar, whether read or sung 
In our domestic or more foreign tongue." 

How rich these six months have been in the 
purest and highest enjoyment, I will not stop to 
say ; but to be allowed to float in such an atmo- 
sphere, buoyed up with the sweetest sympathies 
of friends, may be conceived to be no common 
j happiness. And now, with the hope of commu- I 
I nicating a portion of this pleasure more exten- \ 



^ — 

I 8 

sively, I yield this volume up as a public offering, 
for the advancement of those rational social en- 
\ joyments which seem to belong to the moral 
I movement of the age. 

I I do not know how far early associations may 
I have influenced me, but I distinctly recollect the 
first Oracle of my childhood. At the age of eight 
I years I attended a female seminary in a village. 
The classes were allowed a half hour for recrea- 
\ tion, and they usually played on the green vaithin 
. view of the academy building. One day I ob- 
\ served a group of girls of the senior class pass 
beyond the bounds and enter the church, which 
was opened for some approaching occasional ser- 
vice. I followed quietly. They walked through 
the aisle with agitated whispers, and ascended to 
I the pulpit. Then each, in turn, opening the large 
Bible, laid a finger, with closed eyes, on a verse, 
I and read it aloud, as indicating her fate or char- 
^ acter. 

I well remember the eagerness with which I 

listened on the stairs, for I was afraid to crowd 

into the pulpit with the big girls. As they retired, 

I entered. I can recall the timid feeling with 

\ which I glanced round the shadowy building, the 

I awe with which I closed my eyes and placed my 

I small finger on the broad p'age, and the faith with 

i which I read mv Oracle. 



I must make an early apology foi ventunng to 
alter the tenses of authors so as to conform to 
answers. I tried the method of literal extracts, I 
but they were deficient in spirit and directness. < 
I can now only warn my readers not to qaote the \ 
Oracles habitually, as exact transcripts, but resort i 
to the originals. I have trembled as if it were l 
sacrilege to turn thus the streams of Helicon into \ 
this little channel, but I hope the evil may be 
balanced by the increased acquaintance of many \ 
with slighted authors. 

I have not allowed myself to select from period- \ 
icals, though American journals contain perhaps > 
more favorable specimens of our literature than I 
the published volumes to which I have felt bound 
to confine myself. 

My selections have extended so far beyond the 
limits of my plan, that I propose furnishing an- 
other volume, in the course of the ye?tr, with ad- . 
ditional questions, including translations from 
popular authors. One question in the present i 
volume. To what have you a distaste or aversion ? \ 
is, I think, nearly exhausted, while its opposite, ^ 
What gratifies your taste or affections ? presents \ 
still an ample field for gleaning. Will this fur- \ 
nish any argument against those ascetics, w-ho \ 
\ think misery preponderates over happiness I One J 
\ fanciful question in the succeeding volume will \ 



< 

\ 10 I 

be, What is the name of your Lady-love ? and an- \ 
other, Of him who loves you ? j 

I shall consider with respectful attention friend- \ 
\y suggestions made to me directly, or through my 
publishers, preparatory to the arrangement of an- 
other volume, particularly in bringing to view i 
I any poet, who, by accident, may have escaped 

attention. 
I I have been urged to communicate, in a preface, 
the literary results which have necessarily fiow- 
\ ed from the examination and comparison' of such < 

a mass of poets, but the task is beyond the limits 
I of this humble effort. It would, indeed, be a rich 

field for a Schlegel or De Stael. 
\ A few curious speculations, however, may pre- > 
sent themselves to the most superficial critic. In j 
Shakspeare, for instance, so affluent in various \ 
delineations of character and personal appear- s 
ance, I looked in vain for places of residence. | 
There seemed not to be even a fair proportion of 
I passages descriptive of musical sounds, hours, 

seasons, and (except in The Winter's Tale) of | 
\ flowers. I 

I In Wordsworth, scarcely a flower _ or musical 
\ sound is described. They are alluded to, but not i 
] painted out. The poetry of Crabbe, though 
I abounding in numerous characters, could surren- I 
\ der almost none for my purpose, on account of \ 



11 I 

their being woven into the general strain of his \ 
narratives. Shelley, Landon, and Howitt, are \ 
eminently the poets of flowers, while Darwin, \ 
with a whole Botanic Garden before him, and J 
Mason, in his English Garden, gave me, I think, \ 
none that I conceived fairly entitled to selection. ] 

Few passages of any sort, except those hack- i 
neyed into adages, could be gained from Milton, \ 
on account of the abstract, lofty, and continuous \ 
flow of his diction. Coleridge has corresponding \ 
peculiarities. 

Keats and Shelley are the poets of the heav- 
ens. Byron, with faint exceptions, does not de- | 
scribe a flower, or musical sound, or place of 
residence. \ 

The American poets, in contradistinction to \ 
their elder and superior brethren of the father- \ 
land, display a more marked devotion to nature, \ 
with which a continual glow of religious senti- \ 
ment aptly harmonizes. 

But I am recalled by these lengthening para- \ 
graphs to my disclaimer, and only wish that an 
abler and more philosophical pen than mine could \ 
take my recent experience. \ 

\ After a close examination of the earlier dra- | 
matic poets, though I have rescued from them \ 
some exquisite gems, it seems to me far from de- \ 
sirable that they should be brought forward as j 



12 

prominently as many of their wordy commenta- 
tors desire. A kind of pure instinct in the British 
taste has placed Shakspeare without a brother on 
the throne. The fathers of dramatic poetry acted 
according to their light, but it was not the " true 
light." A few relics, selected with caution, may 
honor their memory, but we should be careful 
while warning our youth against the impurities 
of some modern poets, how we extol these vul- 
garities of a darker moral age. 

Before parting I must ask clemency for classing 
all my authors among Poets, that great word so 
deservedly sacred, and to which I bow with deep 
reverence ; but the Parnassus of my Oracles has 
many steps, and I cannot but feel kindly towards 
those, who sit gracefully, even on the lower plat- 
form, nor apprehend that they will do more than 
look up deferentially to the laurel-crowned wor- 
thies at its summit. Besides, it has been the 
character of my taste, or perhaps philosophy, 
whenever literally or figuratively I gather a 
wreath of flowers, to twine the wild blossom as 
heartily as the exotic, and even insert a weed, if 
its color or contrast lends beauty to the combina- 
tion ; — and thus with my Oracles. 



CATALOGUE OF AUTHORS • 

QUOTED IN THE ORACLES. 



ENGLISH. 



Akenside 


ClBBER 


Addison 


Cunningham 




Cook 


Bloomfield 


Coleridge 


BOWRING 


Crabbe 


Bayley 


Cornwall 


Barbauld 


Cumberland 


Burns 


Chaucer 


Beattie 


Coleman 


Byron 


Clare 


Bowles 


Churchill 


Baillie 


Carrington 


Barton 


Crashaw 


Browne 




Butler 


Dryden 


Beaumont and Fletcher 


Darwin 


Croly 


Elliott 


COWPER 




Carew 


Ferguson 


Cowley 


Falconer 


Collins 




Congreve 


Gray 


Campbell 


Goldsmith 


Chatterton 


Gay 





Gisborne 

Graiiame 

• 

Howitt 
Hemans 
Home 
Habington 


14 


More 
Mason 
Murphy 
Massinger 

MiT.MAN 

Montgomery 
Mackenzie 


- J5 




Hunt 




Macauly 


< 




Hogg 




MacNeil 


I 




Hayley 




Maturin 


i 




Hammond 










Hastings 




Norton 






Herbert 






: 




Hood 




Ossian 


; 




King James 




POLLOK 






Johnson 




Pope 






Jones 




Prior 






JONSON 




POMFRET 

Percy's Reliques 






Keats 










Kemble 




Ramsay 

RowE 


i 




Landon 




Rogers 






L^ 


~ 


ROSCOE 




'- 


Lamb 






1 


e. 


Lyttleton 




Shelley 
Shakspeare 


1 




Miller 




Southey 


I 




Motherwell 




Sheridan 


1 




Massinger 




Spenser 


^ 




Moore 




Sotheby 






Milton 




Sterling 






MiTFORD 




Shenstone 




n — 








J 



sr 



\ 


15 




\ 


Swift 
Scott 


Vaux 


\ 


Smith 


Wordsworth 




SOMERVILLE 


Wilson 
Williams 


1 


Taylor, John 


White 


1 


Tennent 


WOTTON 




Thomson 


Warton 




TiGHE 


Watts 




Talfourd 


WOLCOTT 




Tennyson 


Webster 




Tobin 






Taylor 


Young 




Thom 






AMERICAN 






Aldrich 


Dana, Mrs. 
Davidson, M. 




Bryant 


Dana, R. H. 




Brooks 


Drake 




BULFINCH 


Dawes 




Benjamin 


Davidson, L. 




Burleigh 


Dinmes 




Bancroft ' 


Dickson 




Brainard 


Doane 




Charlton 


Embury 




Clark 


Emerson 




Carey 


Ellet 




COXE 






Cranch 


FOLLEN 




Child 


Fairfield 




Crafts 


Fay 


8t 


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,^,,,^,^^^,.,,^^^^^^^^,^,^^^^^^^^^^^^,^^ 



^^ 



5? 






i 16 


■ 




i Gat.t.agher 


Osgood 




Gould 






GiLMAN, S. 


Percival 




Goodrich 


Peters 




GiLMAN, C. 


Pierpont 




Greene 


Prentice 
Peabody 




Holmes 


Pierson 




Hill 


Pike 




\ Harvey 


Payne 




Halleck 






Hillhouse 


Smith 




Hale 


Street 




HOSMER 


SiMMS 




Harrington 


Sargent 
Sands 




James 


SiGOURNEY 

Sprague 




Lee 


Scott 




Longfellow 






Lowell 


TUCKERMAN 




Lewis 






LUNT 


Willis 
Whittier 




McLellan 


Ware, H. 




Morris 


Wells 




Metj.rn 


Welby 




MOISE 


Ware, Mas. 




Miller 


Wilde 
Whitman 




Neal 


Wilcox 




Noble 


Woodworth 




Nack 







9S 




I HE Game of the Oracles is composed of the fol- I 

lowing fourteen Questions, with sixty Answers l 

each, numbered. | 

What is your character 1 — Gentleman. Page 21 i 

What is your character ] — Lady. " 35 | 

What is the personal appearance of your lady-love T " 51 | 

What is the-personal appearance of him who loves I 

youl « 69 I 

What is the character of your lady-love ? " 83 ; 

^ What is the character of him who loves you 1 " 97 | 

' What season of the year do you love ? " 1 1 1 [ 

< What hour do you love 1 " 129 | 

< What musical sounds do you love ? " 147 > 
What is your favorite flower ? " 161 I 
What gratifies your taste or affections 1 " 175 < 

I For what have you a distaste or aversion ? " 193 | 

^ Where or what will be your residence 1 " 209 \ 

I What is your destiny ? . « 227 



* ■"- B 2* 






DIRECTIONS 



FOR THE GAKE OF THE ORACLES FROM THE POETS. 



FOR A FORTUNE-TELLER WITH TWO PERSONS. 

The person who holds the book asks, for instance, What is 
your character 1 The individual questioned selects any one 
of the sixty answers under that head, say No. 3, and the 
questioner reads aloud the answer No. 3, which will be the 
Oracle. 

FOR A ROUND GAME. 

Where there are more than six persons present, it will be 
well to select the following questions, as the game, connected i 
with the discussions to which it will probably give rise, will \ 
be too protracted by introducing the whole, and the remaining | 
questions are of a sentimental rather than personal class. \ 

What is your character 1 — Gentleman. Page 21 

What is your character 1 — Lady. " 35 

What is the personal appearance of your lady- 
love 1 " 51 
What is the personal appearance of him who 

loves you 1 " 69 

What is the character of your lady-love "? " 83 

What is the character of him who loves you 1 " 97 

Where or what will be your place of residence 1 " 209 
What is your destiny ! " 227 



\ 20 

c 

J A questioner having been selected, he calls on each indi- 
] vidua! to choose a number under the question proposed, and 
< reads each answer aloud as the number is mentioned. If the 
\ party agree to the arrangement, the author of the Oracle can 
I be demanded by the questioner, and a forfeit paid in case of 
I ignorance, or a premium given for a correct answer. 
$ If the person whose Oracle is read cannot tell the author, 
? any one of the party may be allowed a trial in turn, and re- 
\ ceive the premium. 



WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER? 



©ISMIPILllM^J^. 



All our knowledge is ourselves to know. 

Pope. 

Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us, 
To see oursels as others see us ; 
It wad frae monie a blunder free us 
And foolish notion ! 



Burns. i 



% 



WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER? 



TLKMIAIM 




OU kiss not where you wish to kill, 
You feign not love where most you hate, 
You break no sleep to win your will, 
You wait not at the mighty's gate. 
Lord Vaux. 



2. E'en your failings lean to virtue's side. 

Goldsmith 

3. Polite, yet virtuous, you have brought away 
The manners, not the morals of the day. 

COWPER. 



4. Thou art slow to science ; the chart and letter'd page 
Have in them no deep spell whereby thy spirit to 

engage ; 
But rather thou wouldst sail thy boat, or sound thy 

bugle-horn, 
Or track the sportsman's triumph through the fields 

of waving corn, i 

Than o'er the ponderous histories of other ages bend, \ 
Or dwell upon the sweetest page that ever poet penn'd. I 

Mrs. Norton. « 



A spider you may best be liken'd to, 
Which creature is an adept, not alone 
In workmanship of nice geometry. 
But is beside a wary politician. 



Taylor. 



.6. I know thee brave, — 

A counsellor subtle, and a leader proved, — 
With wisdom fitting for a king's right hand ; 
Firm in resolve, nor from thy purpose moved : 
Then what lack'st thou to render thee beloved ? 
Thou'st wooed and won a gentle heart, and more,— 
Hast trampled it to dust. 

Allan Cunningham. 

7. I would rather wed a man of dough. 
Such as some school-girl, when the pie is made. 
To amuse her childish fancy, kneads at hazard 
Out of the remnant paste. 

John Tobin. 

8. Thou, with a lofty soul, whose course 

The thoughtless oft condemn. 
Art touched by many airs from heaven 

Which never breathe on them. 
Moved too by many impulses, 

Which they do never know. 
Who round their earth-bound circles plod 

The dusty paths below. 

Albert G. Greene. \ 



^ 25 

9. You look the whole world in the face, 
For you owe not any man. 

Longfellow. 

10. You loiter, lounge, are lank and lazy, 
Though nothing ails you, yet uneasy ; 
Your days insipid, dull, and tasteless. 
Your nights unquiet, long, and restless ; 
And e'en your sports at balls and races, 
Your galloping through public places, 
Have sic parade, and pomp, and art. 
The joy can scarcely reach the heart. 

BuKNs — Twa Dogs, 

11. Thou'st never bent at glory's shrine, 
To wealth thou'st never bow'd the knee, 
Beauty has heard no vows of thine, 
Thou lovest ease, 

R. H. Wilde. 

12. A gentleman of all Temperance. 

Measure for Measure. 

13. You are positive and fretful. 
Heedless, ignorant, forgetful. 

Swift. 

^14. There is one rare, strange virtue in thy speeches, 
\ The secret of their mastery — they're short. 

\ Hali eck. 



'5§ 



26 

15. For contemplation framed, 
Shy and unpractised in the strife of phrase, 
Yours is the language of the heavens, the power, 
The thought, the image, and the silent joy. 
Words are but under-agents in your soul. 

Wordsworth. 

16. You take delight in others' excellence, 

A gift which nature rarely doth dispense ; 
Of all that breathe, 'tis you, perhaps, alone, 
Would be well pleased to see yourself outdone. 

Young — Epistles. 

17. You are the Punch to stir up trouble. 
You wriggle, fidge, and make a riot. 
Put all your brother puppets out. 

Swift. 

18. You'd shake hands with a king upon his throne. 
And think it kindness to his majesty. 

Halleck. 

19. The meanest thing, earth's feeblest worm. 

You fear to scorn or hate ; 
But honor in a peasant's form 
The equal of the great. 

Ebenezer Elliott. 



• 



20. You may be thrown among the gay and reckless 
sons of life, 



27 

? But will not love the revel scene or head the brawl- 

I ing strife. 

Eliza Cook. 

21. You are one, 
Who can play off your smiles and courtesies 
To every lady, of her lap-dog tired, 
Who wants a plaything. 

SOUTHEY. 

22. Come, rouse thee now ; — I know thy mind, 

And would its strength awaken ; 
Proud, gifted, noble, ardent, kind. 

Anna P. Dinnies. 

23. In choice 
Of morsels for the body, nice are you, 
And scrupulous ; — 

And every composition know 
Of cookery. 

PoLLOK — Course of Time. 

24. A man thou seem'st of cheerful yesterdays. 
And confident to-morrows. 

Wordsworth. 

25. Sir, I confess you to be one well read 
In men and manners, and that usually 
The most ungovern'd persons, you being present. 



j 28 

I Rather subject themselves unto your censure, 

> 

Than give you least occasion of distaste, 

By making you the subject of their mirth. 

Ben Jonson. 

26. When nae real ills perplex you, 
You make enow yoursel' to vex you. 

Burns. 

27. You speak an infinite deal of nothing. 

Merchant of Venice. 

28. Calm, serene. 

Your thoughts are clear and honest, and your words, 
Still chosen most gently, are not yet disguised 
To please the ear of tingling vanity. 

W. G. SIMMS. 

29. Large is your bounty, and your soul sincere ; 

Heaven does a recompense as largely send : 
You give to misery all you have — a tear ; 
I You gain from heaven, 'tis all you ask — a friend. 

\ Gray. 

< 30. You worship God with inward zeal, and serve him 

I in each deed ; 

\ Yet will not blame another's faith^ nor have one 

I martyr bleed. 

? Eliza Cook. 



29 

31. Silent when glad, affectionate though shy; 

And now your look is most demurely sad ; 
And now you laugh aloud, yet none know why, — 
Some deem you wondrous wise, and some believe 
you mad. 

Beattie — Minstrel. 

32. You act upon the prudent plan, 

" Say little, and hear all you can :" 
Safe policy, but hateful. 

COWPER. 

33. You are a gentleman of excellent breeding, admi- 

rable discourse, generally allowed for your many 
warlike, courtlike, and learned preparations. 
Merry Wives of Windsor. 

34. So gentle, yet so brisk, so wondrous sweet, 
Just fit to prattle at a lady's feet. 

Churchill. 

35. Lord of yourself, though not of lands. 
You, having nothing, yet have all. 

Sir Henry Wotton. 

36. No change comes o'er thy noble brow. 
Though ruin is around thee ; 

Thine eye-beam burns as proudly now 
As when the laurel crown'd thee. 

Mrs. Child 



3* 



30 

37. Some have too much, yet still they crave ; 
You little have, yet seek no more ; 
They are but poor, though much they have, 

And you are rich with little store. 
They poor, you rich ; they beg, you give ; 
They lack, you lend ; they pine, you live. 

Lord Vaux. 

3S. With every shifting gale your course you ply, 
Forever sunk too low or borne too high. 

Pope. 

39. You will not bow unto the common things 
Men make their idols. You will stand apart 
From common men ; your sensual appetite 
Shall be subservient to your loftier soul. 

Mary Howitt. 

40. Sloth, the nurse of vices. 
And rust of action, is a stranger to you. 

Massinger. I 

41. The worth of the three kingdoms I defy ? 
To lower you to the standard of a lie. I 

COWPER. j 

42. I have some comfort in this fellow ; \ 
He hath no drowning mark upon him ; his complexion >■ 
Is perfect gallows. \ 

Tempest. i 

i 



2« 



31 



i 43. You lacke no witte, 

\ You speke whatte bee the trouthe, 

\ And whatte all see is ryghte. 

I . Rowley — (^Chatterton.) 



V 44. A man resolved and steady to his trust, 

I Inflexible to ill, and obstinately just. 

> Dr. Watts. 



45. I know thy generous temper well ; 

Fling but the appearance of dishonor on it, 
It straight takes fire, and mounts into a blaze. 

Addison— Cato. 



46. Just like a snail through life's dull path you creep, 
Your whole existence but a waking sleep. 

R. M. Charlton. 

47. Your nature is, 
That you incline to hope rather than fear, 
And gladly banish squint suspicion. 

Milton — Comus. 

48. A right tender heart. 
Melting and easy, yielding to impression. 

And catching the soft flame from each new beauty. 

RowE — Jane Shore. 

49. The ruby lip, the sparkling eye. 

All unavailing prove ; 



\ 



32 

Wandering from fair to fair you fly, 
But will not learn to love. 

Dr. S. H. Dickson. 

.50. Never credit me, if I don't think thee more stupid, 
yea, more obtusely, intensely, and impenetrably 
thick-skulled, than ever man or woman was be- 
fore thee. 

Fanny Kemble — Star of Seville. 

51. Some deem you are a surly man, 

But they know not your griefs and fears, 
How you have been beloved by one. 
Whose image lies '' too deep for tears." 

Thomas Miller. 

52. One charm. 
We in your graceful character observe ; 

j That though your passions burn with high impa- 

I tience, 

I And sometimes, from a noble heat of nature, 

^ Are ready to fly off, yet the least check 

I Of ruling reason brings them back to temper, 

i And gentle softness. 

t Thomson — Tancred and Sigismunda. 

\ 53. You are the fellow at the chimney corner, 

\ Who keeps the fire alive that warms ns all. 

\ Fanny Kemble. 



I 54. You love, and would be loved again ; 
\ Do but confess it; — you possess a soul, ■ 

I That what it wishes, v/ishes ardently. 

^ You would believe you hated, had you power 

To love with moderation. 

Hill — Zara. 

55. A soul 
Too great, too just, too noble to be happy. 

Gibber — Zimena. 

56. Though straiter bounds your fortune does confine. 
In your large heart is found a wealthy mine. 

Waller. 

57. Your heart has settled in a sea of pride, 
Till every part is cold and petrified. 

Miss H. F- Gould. 

58. Your mirth is the pure spirits of various wit. 
Yet never doth your God or friends forget ; j 

I And when deep talk and wisdom come in view, | 

\ Retires, and gives to them their due. I 

\ Cowley.- \ 

I . . I 

^ 59. lou are young, and of I 

< That mould which throws out heroes; fair in favor, $ 

I And doubtlessly, with such a form and heart, | 

^ Would look into the fiery eyes of war. < 

I Byron — Werner. \ 



^ — 


^ 




34 \ 


1 60. 


Calm as evening skies < 




Is your pure mind, and lighted up with hopes j 




That open heaven. ^ 




Thomson — Tancred and Sigismunda. \ 




t 


- 


\ 




I 




1 


. 


; 


1' 




' 


< 




: 




•■ 




j 



WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER? 



ILiAIG)^. 



Nevill. — Know'st thou how slight a thing a woman is? 
ScuDMORE. — Yes ; and how serious too. 

Nathaniel Field — 
Woviari's a Weathercock. A Comedy. 
From Lamb's Specimens of Old Dramatic Poefa. 



'i I 




WHAT IS YOUR CHARACTER? 



.^.^ ONE know thee but to love thee, 
^fev None name thee but to praise. 

Halleck. 

"-0 

2. Oh, thou wilt ever be what now 
thou art, 
"<^5^ Nor unbeseem the promise of thy spring ; 
l.^z/JV? As fair in form, as warm, yet pure in heart, 

fr^ Love's image upon earth without its sting. 
1,'^ Byron. 

3. Ever o'er thy soul a shadow lies, 

Still darkest, when life wears the sunniest skies ; 
And even when with bliss thy heart beats high, 
The swell subsides into a plaintive sigh. 

Mrs. PiERSON. 



4. Sometimes will you laugh, and sometimes cry, 
Then sudden you wax wroth, and all you know not 
why. • 

Thomson. j 



38 

5. Thou doest little kindnesses. 

Which most leave undone or despise ; 
For naught that sets one heart at ease, 
And giveth happiness or peace, 

Is low esteemed in thy eyes. 

James R. Lowell. 

6. Thou art merry and free, ' /Vv 

Thou carest for naebody, , ^i^-^/fp < 

If naebody care for thee. ?^" // ? ,,/ ^ ^^, . Q^ 

Burns. 

7. Women love you, that you are a woman 
More worth than any man ; men, that you are 
The rarest of all women. 

Winter's Tale. 

\ 8. Not only good and kind, 

? But strong and elevated is thy mind ; 

\ A spirit that with noble pride 

\ Can look superior down 

\ On fortune's smile or frown ; 

\ That can, without regret or pain, 

< To virtue's lowest duty sacrifice. 

Lord Lyttleton. 

9. At table you are scrupulous withal ; 
No morsel from your lips do you let fall, 
Nor in your sauce will dip your fingers deep. 
Well can you carry a morsel, and well keep. 



39 

That not a drop e'er falls upon your breast. 

In courtesy your pleasure much doth rest. 

Your dainty upper lip you wipe so clean, 

That in your cup there is no farthing seen 

Of grease, when you have drunk ; and for your meat, 

Full seemly bend you forward on your seat. 

Chaucer. 



10. You have a natural, wise sincerity, 
A simple truthfulness ; 

And though yourself not unacquaint with care, 
Have in your heart wide room. 

James R. Lowell. 



11. What you do 

Still betters what is done ; when you speak, sweet. 
We'd have you do it ever. 

Winter^s Tale. 



12. An inward light to guide thee, 
■ Unto thy soul is given, 
Pure and serene as its divine 
Original in heaven. 

James Aldrich. 



j 13. You have no gill at all in shrewishness, 

i You are a right woman for your cowardice. 

I Midsummer NisrhVs Dream. 



— 7^ 



40 

14. The world has won thee, lady, and thy joys 
Are placed in trifles, fashions, follies, toys. 

Crabbe 

15. Mishap goes o'er thee like a summer cloud ; 
Cares thou hast none, and they who stand to hear 

thee, 
Catch the infection and forget their own. 

Rogers — Italy. 

16. Nature for her favorite child, 

In thee hath temper'd so her clay, 
That every hour thy heart runs wild. 
Yet never once doth go astray. 

Wordsworth. 

17. Your only labor is to kill the time, 
And labor dire it is, and weary wo ; 

You sit, you loll, turn o'er some idle rhyme, 
Then rising, sudden to the glass you go. 

Thomson. 

18. You will die if love you not ; and you will 

die ere you make your love known ; and you will 
die if he woo you, rather than abate one breath 
of your crossness. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

19. It cannot bend thy lofty brow, 

Though friends and foes depart, 



The car of fate may o'er thee roll. 
Nor crush thy Roman heart. 



Mrs. Child. 



20. You wash, wring, brew, bake, scour, dress meat 

and drink, make the beds, and do all yourself. ] 
Merry Wives of Windsor 

21. To tend 
From good to better — thence to best. 

Grateful you drink life's cup, then bend 

Unmurmuring to your bed of rest ; 
You pluck the flowers that around you blow, 
Scattering their fragrance as you go; 

BOWRING. 

22. Rich in love 
And sweet humanity, you will be yourself. 
To the degree that you desire, beloved. 

Wordsworth 



23. You little care what others do, 

And where they go, and what they say ; 
Your bliss all inward, and your own. 
Would only tarnish'd be by being shown. 
The talking, restless world shall see. 
Spite of the world, you'll happy be; 

But none shall know, 

How much you are so. 

Save only Love. 



Si. 



Mrs. Barbauld. 



42 

\ 24. Scared at thy frown, abash'd will fly 

I Self- pleasing folly's idle brood, 

\ Wild laughter, noise, and thoughtless joy, 

^ And leave thee leisure to be good. 

\ , Gray. 

^ 25. A happy lot be thine, and larger light 

Await thee there ; — for thou hast bow'd thy will 
In cheerful homage to the rule of right, 
And lovest all, and doest good for ill. 

Bryant. 

26. In you are youth, beauty, and humble port, 
Bounty, richesse, and womanly feature ; 
God better knows than my pen can report, 
Wisdom, largesse, estate and cunning sure. 
In every point so guided is your measure. 
In word, in deed, in shape, in countenance. 
That nature could no more her child advance. 

King James I. 

27. You do incline to sadness, and oft-times 
Not knowing why. 

Cymhaline. 

28. You are a riddle. 
Which he who solved the sphinx's would die guess- 
ing! 

John Tobin. 



\ 43 

i 29. You have train'd your spirit to forgive, 
As you hope to be forgiven ; 
And you live on earth as they should live 
Whose hopes and home are heaven. 

BOWRINO. 

30. A reasonable woman ; . 
Fair without vanity, rich without pride, 
Discreet though witty, learned yet very humble. 

John Tobin. 

31. There's little of the melancholy in you ; you are 

never sad but when you sleep, and not even sad 
then ; for I have heard that you often dream of 
mischief, and wake yourself with laughing. 
Much Ado About Nothing. 

32. Like a summer storm awhile you're cloudy, 
Burst out in thunder and impetuous showers, 
But straight the sun of beauty dawns abroad, 
And all the fair horizon is serene. 

Nicholas Rowe. 

33. Think not the good, 
The gentle deeds of mercy thou hast done 
Shall die forgotten all ; the poor, the prisoner, 
The fatherless, the friendless, and the widow, 
Who daily own the bounty of thy hand, 

Shall cry to heaven and pull a blessing on thee. 

George Lillo. 



\ 44 . 

34. A friend to the hen-coop you often are found ; 
When the rat or the weasel are prowling around, 
Or chick become motherless strays from the wing, 
A mother are you to the motherless thing. 

Maria James. 

35. A' the day you spier what news kind neibor bodies 

bring. 

Motherwell. 

36. Innocence and virgin modesty, 

A virtue and a consciousness of worth 
That would be woo'd, and not unsought be won. 
Mii^TON^Paradise Lost. 

37. It is your pleasure sweetly to complain, 
And to be taken with a sudden pain ; 
Then up you start, all ecstasy and bliss, 

.And are, sweet soul, just as sincere in this. 
Oh, how you roll your charming eyes in spite, 
And look delightfully with all your might. 

Dr. Young — Love of Fame. 

38. Gracious to all ; but where your love is due 
So fast, so faithful, loyal, just, and true, 
That a bold hand as soon might hope to force 

The rolling light of heaven, as stay your course. \ 

Waller. I 

r \ 

39. Thou medley of contraries ! s 

We trust thee, yet we doubt thee, ^ 



g^^ 



45 



Our darkness and our light ; 

Night would be day without thee, 
And day, without thee, night. 

Judge Charlton. 

40. You are a soul so white and so^ chaste, 

As nothing called foul 

Dares approach with a blot, 

Or any least spot ; 

But still you control 
[ Or make your own lot, 

\ Preserving love pure as it first was begot. 
I Ben Jonson. 

\ 41. The power you wield has its best spells in love, 
\ And gentleness, and thought ; never in scorn. 

Or any wayward impulse or caprice. 

W. G. SIMMS. 

42. You love to listen better than to talk, 

And, rather than be gadding, would sit quiet ; — 
Hate cards, and cordials. 

TOBIN. 



l 43. You do not love 

\ As men love, who love often. Yours has been 

j A single sentiment for one alone, 

{ An all-engrossing passion, which doth live 

^ On hope and faith. 

> Elizabeth Bogart. 



\ 46 

\ 

44. Thou talkest well, but talking is thy privilege ; 

'Tis all the boasted courage of thy sex. 

Nicholas Rowe — Tamerlane. 

45. Thoughts go sporting through your mind 

Like children among flowers. 
And deeds of gentle goodness are 

The measure of your hours. 
In soul or face you bear no trace 

Of one from Eden driven, 
But, like the rainbow, seem, though born 

Of earth, a part of heaven ! 

George Hii^l. 

46. All things thou art by turns, from wrath to love, 
From the queen eagle, to the vestal dove. 

Barry Cornwall. 

47. You've turn'd up your nose at the short, 

And cast down your eyes at the tall ; 
But then you just did it in sport. 
And now you've no lover at all. 

G. P. Morris. 

48. Alive to feel and curious to explore 
Each distant object of refined distress. 

Whitehead — Roman Father. 

49. You have a soul 
Of god-like mould, intrepid and commanding : 



47 

But you have passions which outstrip the wind, 
And tear your virtues up. 

CoNGREVE — Mourning Bride. 

50. There's not a lovely transient thing 
But brings thee to our mind ! 
The rainbow, or the fragile flower, 
Sweet summer's fading joys, 
The waning moon, the dying day, 
The passing glories of the clouds, 
The leaf that brightens as it falls. 
The wild tones of the iEolian harp. 
All tell some touching tale of thee ; 
There's not a tender lovely thing 
But brings thee to our mind. 

Mrs. Follen. 

51. 'Tis not your part, 
Out of your fond misgivings, to perplex 
The fortunes of the man to whom you cleave ; 
^Tis yours to weave all that you have of fair 
And bright, in the dark meshes of their web. 

Talfourd — Ion. 

r 

52. In our hours of ease. 

Uncertain, coy, and hard to please ; 

When pain and sickness rend the brow, \ 

A ministering angel thou. \ 

Scott. ^ 

> 



48 

53. Ever art thou fair, 
Ev'n in the city's gaudy tumult, fair ; 
Yet he who marks thee only as the charm 
And worship of gay crowds, in festive halls, 
Knows but thy living image, not thy soul, 
Joyless in that cold pomp. 

Dr. Brown — Bower of Spring. 

54. Thine is the heart that is gentle and kind, 

And light as the feather that sports in the wind. 

Hogg — Queen's Wake. 

55. Your person is a paradise, and your soul the cherub 

to guard it. 

Dryden. 

56. Your two red lips affected zephyrs blow. 
To cool the Hyson, and inflame the beau ; 
While one white finger and a thumb conspire 
To lift the cup, and make the world admire. 

Young. 

57. More than a sermon love you the touch'd string, 
You love to tinkling tunes your feet to fling. 

,. Allan Cunningham. 

58. Coquet and coy at once your air. 

Both studied, though both seem neglected ; 
Careless you are with artful care, 
Affecting to seem unaffected. 

CONGREVE. 



I ^^ I 

I 59. Your sweet humor " < 

Is easy as a calm, and peaceful too. \ 

All your affections like the dew on roses, — 

Fair as the flowers themselves, as sweet and gentle. 

Beaumont and Fletcher — The Pilgrim. 

60. Grateful we find you, patient of control ; 
A most bewitching gentleness of soul 
Makes pleasure of what work you have to do. 
Bloomfield — The Miller's Maid, 



^ . 51 ■ 1 



WHAT IS THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF 
YOUR LADY-LOVE 1 



Must you have my picture? 
You will enjoin me to a straiig,e punishment. 
With what a compell'd face a woman sits 
While she is drawing ! I have noted divers 
Eitlier to fain smiles, or suck in the lips, 
I'o have a little mouth ; ruffle the cheeks, 
To have the dimple seen ; and so disorder 
The face with affectation, at next sitting 
It has not been the same. 

But indeed ^ 

If ever I would have mine drawn to the life, 
I would have a painter steal it at such a time 
I were devoutly kneeling at my prayers ; 
There is then a heavenly beauty in't, the soul 
Moves in the superficies. 

John Weester — 
The DevWs Law Case. A Tragi-Comedy. 

From Lamb's Specimens of Drtimatic Poets. 



53 



WHAT IS THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF 
YOUR LADY-LOVE? 




ER eyes are shadowy, full of thought 

and prayer, 
And with long lashes o'er a white 

rose cheek 

^ Drooping. 
I Mrs. Hemans. 

2. A thing all lightness, life, and glee, 
\ One of the shapes we seem 

\ To meet in visions of the night, 
I And should they greet our waking sight, 

Imagine that we dream. 
5 George Hill. 

j 3. A lovelier nymph the pencil never drew ; 
^ For the fond Graces form'd her easy mien, 
'( And heaven's soft azure in her eye is seen. 
\ She seems a rose-bud when it first receives 
I The genial sun in its expanding leaves. 

Havley — Triumphs of Temper. 



SJ 



54 

4. Eyes 
As tender as the blue of weeping skies, 
Yet sunny in their radiance as that blue, 
When sunset glitters on its falling dew. 

John Neal. 

5. She bends beneath the weight of dress. 

The stifFen'd robes, which spoil her easy mien, 
And art mistaken makes her beauty less, 

While still it hides some beauties better seen. 
Hammond — Love Elegies. 

6. There is a sweetness in her upturn'd eyes, 
A tearful lustre, such as fancy lends 

To the Madonna, and a soft surprise. 

As if they found strange beauty in the air. 

Park Benjamin. 

7. Her soft, clear eyes, deep in their tenderness. 
Reflect all beautiful and kindly things. 

She would seem infantile, but that her brow 
In lilied majesty uptowers, and tells 
That lofty thoughts and chasten'd pride are there. 

Mrs. Oilman. 

8. *. Oh, the words 
Laugh on her lips ; the motion of her smiles 
Showers, beauty, as the air-caressed spray 
The dews of morning ; and her stately steps 
Are light, as though a winged angel trod 






55 

Over earth's flowers, and fear'd to brush away 

Their delicate hues. 

MiLMAN — Fazio. 

9. She has ane e'e, she has but ane, 
The cat has twa the very color ; 
Five rusty teeth forbye a stump, 

A clapper tongue would deave a miller. 

Burns. 

10. She lacks the beauty of a "damask skin," 
But there are roses lying near at hand, 
To spring unto her cheek ; oft from within 
They come, called up at feeling's high command, 
And on the glowing surface long remain. 

Mrs. M. S. B. Dana. 

11. If on her we see display'd 
Pendent gems, and rich brocade, 
If her chintz with less expense 
Flows in easy negligence, 

If she strikes the vocal strings. 
If she's silent, speaks, or sings. 
If she sit, or if she move, 
Still we love and we approve. 

Dr. Johnson. 

12. Her laugh is like a fairy's laugh. 

So musical and sweet ; 
Her foot is like a fairy's foot, 
So dainty and so fleet. 



~M 



56 

Her smile is fitful sunshine, 
Her hand is dimpled snow, 

Her lip a very rose-bud 
In sweetness and in glow. 



Mrs. Osgood. 



13. A thoughtful and a quiet grace, 

Though happy still ; — yet chance distress 
Hath left a pensive loveliness ; 
Fancy hath tamed her fairy gleams, 
And her heart broods o'er home-born dreams. 

Wilson. 



Sfknser. 



Keats. 



\ 14. Her swollen eyes are much disfigured, 
•, And her faire face with tears 

\ Is foully blubbered. 

5 15. A downcast eye, repentant of the pain 
I That its mild light creates. 

\ 

5 16. Not fairer grows the lily of the vale, 

5 Whose bosom opens to the vernal gale ; 

While health that rises with the new-born day, 
Breathes o'er her cheek the softest blush of May. 
Falconkr — ShipwrecJc. 

17. Fairest where all is beautiful and bright ! 

With what a grace she glides among the flowers 
That smile around her, bowing at her touch. 

Gallagher. 



57 

18. On her cheek an autumn flush 
Deeply ripens ; — such a blush 
In the midst of brown was born, 
Like red poppies grown with corn. 

Around her eyes her tresses lay, \ 

Which are blackest, none can say ; \ 

But long lashes veil a light, \ 

That had else been all too bright. I 

Hood ^ 

19. Ne in her speach, ne in her haviour 
is lightnesse scene, or looser vanitie ; 
But gratious womanhood and gravitie. 
Above the reason of her youthly yeares. 
Her golden locks she roundly doth uptye. 
In braided trammels, that ne looser heares 
Do out of order stray about her daintie eares. 

Spenser 

20. A silver line, that from the brow to the crown, 

And in the middle, parts the braided hair. 

Just serves to show how delicate a soil 

The golden harvest grows in ; while those eyes. 

Soft and capacious as a cloudless sky. 

Whose azure depth their colour emulates. 

Must needs be conversant with upward looks, 

Prayer's voiceless service. 

Wordsworth. 

21. Half the charms that deck her face, 
Arise from powder, shreds, and lace. 

Goldsmith. 



58 

\ 22. Time from her form has ta'en away but little of its 

\ grace, 

> His touch of thought hath dignified the beauty of 

^ her face. 

I Bayley. 

\ 23. 'Tis strange, 

\ That though you study long, you cannot tell 

I The color of her eye, that seems to change. 

Beneath the ivory lid, from brilliant black 

To liquid hazel, then to full soft gray, 

Fast melting into violet. 

Miss M. E. Lee. 

24. Her face is heaven's bow in showers. Her dark 

hair flows round it like streaming clouds. 

OSSIAN. 

25. She has an innocently downcast look, 

And when she raises up her eyes of blue. 
It seems as if her features were a book. 
Where sweet affection letters love for you. 

RuFus Dawes. 

26. Indeed she has a marvellous white hand, 
I must needs confess. 

Troilus and Cressida. 

\ 27. I never saw a crowned queen, 

With such a noble air, 

So angel-like, so womanly, 

As is your lady fair. s 

Mary Howitt. i 



; . 59 

28. Around her playful lips do glitter 

Heat lio:htnino;s of a srirlish scorn, 
Harmless they are, for nothing bitter 

In that dear heart was ever born. 
That merry heart, that cannot lie 

Within its warm nest quietly,- 
But ever from the full dark eye 

Is looking kindly, night and morn. 

J. R. Lowell. 

29. Oh, her glance is the brightest that ever has shone, 

And the lustre of love's on her cheek ; 
But all the bewildering enchantment is gone 
The moment you hear her speak. 

Mrs. Ellet. 

30. The rose, with faint and feeble streak, 
So slightly marks the maiden's cheek, 
That you would say her hue is pale ; 
But if she face the Southern gale, 

Or speaks, or sings, or quicker moves, 
Or hears the praise of those she loves. 
Or when of interpst is express'd. 
Aught that wakes feeling in her breast. 
The mantling blood in ready play 

I Rivals the blush of opening day. 

I * Scott — Rolcehy 

I 

J^31. She dresses aye sae clean and neat, 
^ Both decent and genteel ; 



< 60 ^ 

J , . ^ 

\ And then there's something in her srait c 

\ Gars ony dress look weel. 5 

^ Burns. \ 



< 32. She walks in beauty, like the night 

^ Of cloudless climes and starry skies ; 

\ And all that's best of dark and bright, 

\ Meet in her aspect and her eyes. 

I Byron. 

\ 33. Eyes of the gray, 

I The soft gray of the brooding dove, 

\ Full of the sweet and tender ray 

I Of holy love. 

\ Mrs. Norton. 

I 34. I saw her hand — she has a leathern hand, 

\ ' A freestone color'd hand. I verily did think \ 

s That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hand ; \ 

I She has a housewife's hand ! I 

s As You Like It. ^ 

\ 
J > 

5 35. The fashion of her gracefulness is not a follow'd ^ 
^ • • rule, 

I And her effervescent sprightliness was never taught 

^ at school ; 

< Her words are all peculiar, like the fairy's that 
\ spoke pearls, 

And her lone is ever sweetest 'mid the cadences of i 

girh. 

Willis. 



V 

61 'I 

5 

36. There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip ; i 

Nay, her foot speaks. | 

Troilus and Cressida. > 

37. She has that changing color on the cheek, ^ 
Which speaks the heart so well ; those deep blue I 

eyes, " < 

Like summer's darkest sky, yet not so glad ; I 

They are too passionate for happiness. 

Miss Landon. 

38. There is a light around her brow, 

A holiness in those dark eyes. 
Which show, though wandering earthward now, 
\ Her spirit's home is in the skies. 

i Moore. 

\ 39. A still, sweet, placid, moonlight face, 
And slightly nonchalant, 
Which seems to hold a middle place 

Between one's love and aunt. 
Where childhood's star has left a ray 

In woman's summer sky. 
As morning's dew and blushing day 
On fruit and blossom lie. 

O. W. Holmes. 

• 40. A bright, frank brow, that has not learn'd to blush | 

at gaze of man. 5 

Macauley — Lays of Ancient Rome. < 



g^.^ 


' ^^-^^^•■^^^-^^^■^■^^^^■^'^^ -— -~ .^..^^.,v.^.^^^^^^^-^^.^^^^..^^^.^.^^,<^„^.^^^.,^^J^ 


! • 


62 


1 ^^' 


If to her share some female errors fall, 




Look in her face, and you'll forget them all. ' 




Hayley — Triumphs of Temper. . I 


42. 


Quips, and cranks, and playful wiles. 


1 


Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles, 




Such as hang on Hebe's cheek, 




And love to live in dimple sleek. I 




Milton — Comus. \ 


43. 


Excellently done, if God did all. I 




Twelfth Night 1 


44. 


A ruby lip \ 




First dawns ; then glows the young cheek's deeper \ 




hue, • \ 




Yet delicate as roses when they dip \ 




Their odorous blossoms in the morning dew. *\ 




Then beam the eyes, twin stars of living blue, \ 




Half shaded by the curls of glossy hair, I 




That turn to gold in the West's golden glare. \ 




CR01.Y— Angel of the World. I 


45 


Love glower'd* when he saw her bonnie dark e'e, 




'An swore by heaven's grace. 




He ne'er had seen, nor thought to see, 




Since e'er he left the Paphian lea. 




Mair lovely a dwallin' place. | 




William Thom. 


1 ■ 


* Stared with surprise. ^ 


k^^ 


v^..■.^^.^^•,.^.^.^.........^...^^.^ ^..^,-......,.^-.-^ ^^^.s^ r ^-.^ . -,v,^,.^Sf 



63 

46. An angel-face! its sunny "wealth of hair," 
In radiant ripples, bathes the graceful throat, 
And dimpled shoulders ; round the rosy curve 

Of the sweet mouth, a smile seems wandering ever, 
While in the depths of azure fire that gleams 
Beneath the drooping lashes, sleeps a world 
Of eloquent meaning — passionate, but pure ; 
Dreamy, subdued, but O, how beautiful ! 

Mrs. Osgood. 

47. Do but look in her eyes, they do light 

All that Love's world compriseth : 
Do but look on her hair, it is bright 

As Love's star when it riseth ! 
Do but mark, her forehead's smoother 

Than words that sooth her, 
And from her arched brows such a grace 
Sheds itself through the face, 
As alone there triumphs to the life. 
All the gain, all the good, of the elements at strife. 
* Ben Jonson. 

48. When first you look upon her face, 

You little note, beside 
The timidness, that still betrays ' 

The beauties it would hide; 
But, one by one, they look out from 

Her blushes and her eyes, 

And still the last the loveliest, 

Like stars from twilight skies. 

George Hill. 



% 



64 

49. Endearing ! endearing ! 

Why so endearing 
Are those dark lustrous eyes, 

Through their silk fringe peering ? 
They love thee ! they love thee ! 

Deeply, sincerely ; 
And more than aught else on earth, 

Thou lov'st them dearly. 

Motherwell. 

50. In face an angel, but in soul a cat ! 

Dr. Wolcott — Peter Pindar. 



51. Her feet beat witchcraft as she heads the dance, 
Lads, like a garland, hem her round about, 
While Love rains on them from her dark eye- 
\ glance. 

I The maidens near her, tittering, take their stance, 

^ And on her swan-white neck, and snowy arms, 

{ Her small and nimble feet, they look askance ; 

> The hoary fiddler, as he listens, warms, 

\ And draws a lustier bow, and gazes on her charms. 

{ Allan Ccnningham. 

\ 52. A cheek, fair 

\ And delicate as rose-leaf newly blown — ^ 

< A brow like marble — lofty, and profuse " ^ 

) With the rich brown of her o'ergathering hair. \ 

W. G. SIMMS. j 



65 

53. Such her beauty, as no arts 

Have enrich'd with borrow'd grace ; 
Her high birth no pride imparts, 
For she blushes in her place. 
Folly boasts a glorious blood, 
She is noblest, being good. 
> Habington. 

;; 54. O'er her features steal, serenely mild, 
\ The trembling sanctity of woman's truth, 

Her modesty, and simpleness, and grace ; 
Yet those who deeper scan the human facBj 
j Amid the trial-hour of fear or ruth, 

May clearly read, upon its heaven-writ scroll. 
That high and firm resolve, which nerved the 1 
man soul. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 

55. On her forehead sitteth pride, 
Crown'd with scorn, and falcon-eyed ; 
But she beneath, methinks, doth twine 
Silken smiles, that seem divine. 

.Can such smiles be false and cold ? 
Can she, will she wed for gold ? 
i Barry Cornwaix. 

56. Oh ! her beauty is fair to see, 
But still and steadfast is her e'e, 
And the soft desire of maiden's e'en. 
In that mild face can never be seen. 

< ...,...__ ' 

'e -6* 



I 66 

\ Her seymat is the lily flower, | 

\ And her cheek the moss-rose in a shower, 

f And her voice, like the distant melody 

\ That floats along the twilight sea. 

\ But she lo'es to raike the lonely glen, 

And keep afar frae the haunts o' men. 

Hogg — Queen's Wake. 

57. 'Tis not her eye or lip we beauty call, 
But the joint force and full result of all. 

Pope. 

58. Her face is very beautiful, and mirth 
\ Is native on her lip ; but ever, now, 
\ As a sweet tone delighteth her, the smile 
\ Goes melting into sadness, and the lash 
I Droops gently to her eye, as if it knew 
\ Affection was too chaste a thing for mirth. 

Willis. 

59. Have you seen but a bright lily grow. 

Before rude hands have touch'd it ? 
Have you mark'd but the fall o' the snow, 

Before the soil hath smutch'd it ? 
Have you felt the wool of the. beaver ? 

Or swan's-down ever ? 
Or have smelt o' the bud of the brier ? 

Or the nard in the fire ? 
Or have tasted the bag of the bee ? 
O so white ! O so soft ! O so sweet is she ! 

Ben Jonson. 



3? 



67 



< 60. Her nose is crook'd, and turn'd outwarde, 
Her chin stands all awry ; 
A worse formed lady than she is, 

Was never seen with eye. 
Her haires like serpents cling aboute 

Her cheekes of deadlye hewe ; 
A worse form'd ladye than she is 
No man mote ever view. 

Percy's Reliques — The Marriage of Sir Gawaine 



% 



WHAT IS THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF 
HIM WHO LOVES YOU ? 



'Twas pretty, though a plague. 
To see him every hour, to sit and draw 
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, 
In our heart's table ; heart, too capable 
Of every line and trick of his sweet favor. 

All's Well That Ends Well. 

I will drop in his way some obscure epistle of love ; wherein, 
by the color of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his 
gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall i 
find himtlf most feelingly personated. 

Twelfth Night. 









WHAT IS THE PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF 
"HIM WHO LOYES YOU? 



.,. — =.=s=iss=- — ^ ^ i^jg }3qI(^ visacre middle age 

^^^^^pll| Has slightly press'd its signet sage, . 
^IHB^BjHr ^"^^ ^^^ ^'^^ quench'd the open truth 
^^^^^^^ji And fiery vehemence of youth. 

Scott — Lady of the Lake. 

2. He is young 

And eminently beautiful, and life 
Mantles in eloquent fulness on his lip, 
And sparkles in his glance, and in his mien 
There is a gracious pride that every eye 
Follows with benisons. 

Willis. 

I 3. He hath but a little wee face, with a little yellow 

j beard. 

' Merry Wives of Windsor. 

i 4. The high-born eye, 

That checks low mirth, but lacks not courtesy. 
^ Byron — Corsair. 



72 

5. Locks jet black, and clustering round a face 
> Open as day, and full of manly daring. 

I _ Rogers — Italy. 

6. His face is keen as is the wind 
That cuts along the hawthorn fence, 

A motley air 
Of courage and of impudence. 

Wordsworth. 



7. Oh what a deal of scorn looks beautiful 
In the contempt and anger of his lip ! 

Twelfth Night. 

8. A goodly person, and can manage faire 
His stubborn steed. 

Who under him doth trample in the air, 
And chafe, that any on his back should sit. 

Spenser. 

9. His waggish face, that speaks a soul jocose. 

Seems t'have been cast i' the mould of fun and 
glee ; 
And on the bridge of his well-arched nose, 

Sits laughter plumed, and white-wing'd jollity. 
Tennent — Anster Fair. 

10. The glow of temperance o'er his cheek is spread, 
Where the soft down half veils the chasten'd red. 

Crabbe. 



73 I 



11. Readable as open book ; 
And much of easy dignity there lies 
In the frank lifting of his cordial eyes. 

Leigh Hunt — Rimini. 

12. Underneath that face, like summer ocean's, -" 

Its lip as moveless, and its cheek as clear, 
Slumbers a whirlwind of the heart's emotions, 
Love, hatred, pride, hope, sorrow — all save fear. I 

Halle CK. i 

\ 13. Singing he is, or fluting all the day ; | 

He is as fresh as is the month of May. < 

He can songs make, and well indite, \ 

Jouste, and eke dance, and well portray and write ; I 
Courteous he is, lowly and serviceable, \ 

And carveth for his father at the table. \ 



14. Does he not hold up his head, as it were, and strut 

in his gait ? 

Merry Wives of Windsor. 



15. Sober he seems, and very sagely sad. 

And to the ground his eyes are lowly bent. 

Simple in show. 

Spenser — Fairy Queen. 



16. He is the deuce among the girls, > 

A thing of foppery and ton, of whiskers and of curls, i 

Albert Pike. ? 



S?' 



5S 



, 74 • 

17. A dainty gentleman, 

His sleepy eyes half closed, and countenance 
To no expression stronger than may suit 
A simper, capable of being turn'd. 

South EY. 

18. Contempt contracts his face, 'a smile is on his dark- 

brown cheek, his red eye rolls half concealed be- 
neath his shaggy brows. 

OSSIAN. 

19. Downcast, or shooting glances far, 

How beautiful his eyes. 
That blend the nature of the star 
With that of summer skies ! 



Wordsworth. 



20. Eyebrows bent like Cupid's bow, 
Front an ample field of snow, 
Even nose, and cheek withal 
Smooth as is the billiard-ball ; 
Chin as woolly as the peach, 
And his lip doth kissing teach. 
Till he cherish too much beard 
And make Love and you afear'd. 



Ben Jonson. 



21. A fair and meaning face, an eye of fire. 

That checks the bold and makes the free retire. 

Crabbe. 



75 I 

22. He has all the graces that render a man's society 

dear to ladies. 

Massinger. 

23. A beard that would make a razor shake. 
Unless its nerves were strong ! 

Albert Pike. 

24. He hath but a little beard, but time will send more 

if the man will be thankful. 

As You Like It. 

25. A fresh young Squire, 
A lover, and a lusty bachelor ; 
With locks curl'd as they were laid in press : 
Of twenty years of age he is, I guess. 

Chaucer. 

26. His form is middle size. 
Shaped in proportion fair; 
And hazel is his eagle eye. 
And auburn of the deepest dye 
His short curl'd beard and hair. 

Scott. 

27. The tartness of his face sours ripe grapes. 

Coriolanus. 

28. A kind true heart, a spirit high, 

That cannot fear, and will not bow, 

.53 



76 

Are written in his manly eye, 
And on his manly brow. 



Halleck, 



29. He has more goodness in .lis little finger, than you 

have in your whole body ; 
Indeed he is a personable man, and not a spindle- 
shanked hoddy-doddy. 

- Swift. 

30. A sweeter "and a lovelier gentleman, 
Framed in the prodigality of nature, 
Young, valiant, wise, 

The spacious earth cannot afford again. 

Richard III. 

31. A handsome gallant, and a beau of spirit. 
Who can go down the dance so well as he ? 

Tennent — Anster Fair. 

32. A phantom, fashionably thin. 

With limb of lath, and bearded chin. 

Scott — Bridal of Triermain. 

33. There is a fair behavior in him. 

And though that nature with a beauteous wall 
Doth oft close in pollution, yet of him 
I well believe, he has a mind that suits 
With this his fair and outward character. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 



'^ 



77 



34. Like a crane, his neck is long and fine, 
With which he swalloweth up excessive feast. 

Spenser. 

35. Oh thy love has an eye 
Like a star in the sky. 

And breath like the sweets from the hawthorn tree ; 

And his heart is a treasure. 

Whose worth is past measure, 

And yet he hath given all — all to thee. 

Barrv Cornwall. 

I 36. His form, his face, his noble mien, 

I The sweetness of his touching tone, 

^ His feeling heart so simply shown, 

I Such gifts of mind, such gentle grace, 

i Proclaim him of no common race. 

SOTHEBY. 

37. A brow of beautiful yet earnest thought, 
A form of manly grace. 

Mrs SiGouRNfeY. 

38. He's handsome, valiant, young. 
And looks as he were laid for nature's best, 
To catch weak women's eyes. 

Dryden — All for Love. 

39. In that fair stand, his forehead, Love still bends 
His double bow, and round his arrows sends ; 



^;^ 



J^' 



I 78 

I In that tall grove, his hair, those globy rings 

s He flying curls, and crispetli with his wings. 
> Ben Jonson. 

5 40. He's fatj and scant o' breath. 

I •• Hamlet. 

\ 41. Lordly look'd and lordly limb'd is he, — 
I A frame of iron, a right arm long and stark, 

5 A rough, loud voice, a visage somedale dark, 

\ A heart which soars as dangers soar, and ne'er 

< Sinks save in peace. 

Allan Cunningham. 

42. Tall is his frame, his forehead high, 
Still and mysterious is his eye ; 
His look is like a wintry day 

When storms and winds have sunk away. 

Hogg — Queen's WaJce. 

43. He chats like popinjay. 
And struts with phiz tremendously erect. 

Tennent — Anster Fair. 



44. His large fair front, and eye sublime, declare 
Absolute rule, and hyacinthine locks, 
Round from his parted forelock, manly hang 



Clustering. 



Milton — Paradise Lost. 



\ 79 •< 



45. A sweet-faced man ; a proper man as one shall see 

in a summer's day ; a most lovely, gentleman- 
like man. 

Midsummer NighVs Dream. 

46. Dark deep eyes, and lips 
Whose motions gift the air they breathe with love. 

Shelley: 

47. Full long are both his spindle-shanks, and lean 
Just like a walking-stick— no calf is seen. 

Chaucer. 

48. Faster than his tongue 
Doth make offence, his eye doth heal it up. 

As You Like It. 

49. His eyes are like the eagle's, yet sometimes 
Liker the dove's ; and at his will he wins 
All hearts with softness, or with spirit awes. 

Home — Douglass. 

50. , There's a cold bearing, 
And grave, severe aspect about the man, 
That makes our spirits pay him such respect, 

As though he dwelt 'neath age's silvery pent-house, 
Despite his unripe years. 



Fanny Kemble. 



51. Young and fair, 

Yet a man ; — with crisped hair, 
Cast in thousand snares and rinsrs 



.. — i2 



I 



80 

For Love's fingers, and his wings : 
Chesnut color, or more slack 
Gold, upon a ground of black. 



Ben Jonson. 



52. A brow half martial, and half diplomatic, 
An eye upsoaring like an eagle's wings. 

1H ALLEGE. 

53. He' capers, he dances, he has eyes of youth; 
He writes verses, he speaks holiday, s 
He smells April and May. 

Merry Wives of Windsor. 

I 54. 'Tis not his talent to conceal his thoughts, 

I And carry smiles and sunshine in his face, 

I When discontent sits heavy at his heart. 
? Addison — Cato. 

] b5. A fop complete, 

J He stalks the jest and glory of the street. 

5 Cbabbe. 

56. Oh what a grace is seated on his brow ! , 
A combination and a form indeed. 
Where every god doth seem to set his seal 
To give the world assurance of a man. 

Hamlet, 



57. Such beauty as great strength thinks no disgrace. 
Smiles in the manly features of his face ; 



81 

His large black eyes, fiU'd with a spriteful light, 
Shoot forth such lively and illustrious night, 
As the sunbeams on jet reflecting show ; / 
His hair is black, in short curPd waves doth flow ; 
His tall, straight body amid thousands stands. 
Like some fair pine o'erlooking all the lands. 

Cowley — Davideis. 

58. He witches the world with noble horsemanship. 
And vaults into his saddle with such ease. 

As if an angel dropt down from the clouds 
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus. 

Henry IV. 

59. A stalwart, active, soldier-looking stripling, 
Handsome as Hercules ere his first labor. 
And with a brow of thought beyond his years 
When in repose, till his eye kindles up, 

In answering yours. 

Byron — Werner. 

60. His face is dark, but very quiet ; 

It seems like looking down the dusky mouth 
Of a great cannon. 

John Sterling — Strafford. 



-» 



' — ^s 



\ 

WHAT IS THE CHARACTER OF YOUr| 
LADY-LOVE? 



Look at her, whoe'er 
Thou be that kindlest with a Poet's soul 

Intensely from imagination take 

The treasure ; what mine eyes behold see thou, 
Even though the Atlantic Ocean roll between. 

"WoilDSWORTH. 

The idea of her life shall sweetly creep 

Into his study of izuagination ; 

And every lovely organ of her life, 

Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit, 

More moving, delicate, and full of life, 

Into the eye and prospect of his soul. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 



WHAT IS THE CHARACTER OF YOUR LADY- 
LOVE? 




ER body's matchless form 
Is better'd by the pureness of her mind. 
Massinger. 

t*lx[ 2. She's made of those rare elements 

' "^ that now and then appear, 

As if removed by accident into a lesser sphere, 

Forever reaching up and on to life's sublimer things, 

As if they had been used to track the universe with 

_ wings. 

Willis. 

3. This reasoning maid, above her sex's dread. 
Has dared to read, and dares to say she read. 

Crabbs. 

4. Her smile so soft, her heart so kind, 

Her voice for pity's tones so fit, 
All speak her woman ; — but her mind 
Lifts her where bards and sages sit. 

Dr. Brown. 



Wordsworth. 



6. One whose life is like a star, 
Without toil or rest to mar 
Its divinest harmony, 
Its God-given serenity. 



James Aldrich. 



7. She is wise, if I can judge of her, 

And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true. 
And true she is, as she hath proved herself.' 

Merchant of Venice. 

8. Right from the hand of God her spirit came 
Unstain'd, and shie hath ne'er forgotten whence 
It came, nor wander'd far from thence, 

But laboreth to keep her still the same, 
Near to her place of birth, that she may not 
Soil her white raiment with an earthly spot. 

J. R. Lowell. 

9. With her mien she enamors the brave. 

With her wit she engages the free. 

With her modesty pleases the grave ; 

She is every way pleasing to thee. 

Shenstone. 



< 
5. A perfect woman, nobly planned, ^ 

To warn, to comfort, and command, < 

And yet a spirit still, and bright \ 

With something of an angel light. \ 



87 



:; 10. I would my horse had the speed of her tongue. 
\ Much Ado About Nothing. 



11. As through the hedge-row shade the violet steals, 
And the sweet air its naodest leaf reveals, 
Her softer charms, but by their influence known, 
Surprise all hearts, and mould them to her own. 

Rogers. 



12. Full many a lady 

You have eyed with best regard, and many a time, 
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage 
Brought your too diligent ear ; for several virtues 
You have liked several women ; never any 
With so full soul, but some defect in her 
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed, 
And put it to the foil : But she, O she, 
So perfect and so peerless, is created 
Of every creature's best! 



Tempest. 



13. She is all simplicity, 

A creature soft and mild ; 
Though on the eve of womanhood, 
In heart a very child. 



Mrs. Welby. 



14. Who does not understand and love her, 

With feeling thus o'erfraught ? 

Though silent as the sky above her, 

Like that, she kindles thought. 



Dr. Gilman. 

.5S 



.88 

15. Sacred and sweet is all I see in her. 

Taming of the Shrew. 

16. She is 
Happy in all endowments, which a poet 
Could fancy in his mistress ; being herself 

A school of goodness, where chaste maids miy 

learn, 
By the example of her life and pureness, 
To be, as she is, excellent. 

Massinger. 

17. She steps like some glad creature of the air, 
As if she read her fate and knew it fair; 

In truth, for fate at all she hath no care. 

Yet hath she tears as well as gladness ; 

A butterfly in pain 
Will make her weep for very sadness, 
But straight she'll smile again. 

A. M. Wells. 

18. A maiden never bold 
Of spirit, so still and quiet, that her motion 
Blush'd at itself. 

Othello. 

19. She saith not once nay when thou sayest yea; 

*' Do this," saith he. " All ready, sir," saith she. 

Chaucer. 



I? 



89 



20. Every thought and feeling throw 
Their shadows o'er her face, 
And so are every thought and feeling join'd, 
^Twere hard to answer whether heart or mind 
Of either were the native place. 

Washington Allston. 



21. She speaks, 

Yet she says nothing ! 



Romeo and Juliet. 



22. She will weep for nothing, like Diana in the foun- \ 

tain, when thou art disposed to be merry ; and \ 

will laugh like a hyena, when thou art disposed ^ 

to sleep. s 

As You Like It. $ 



23. Though on pleasure she is bent, 

She has a frugal mind. 

Goldsmith. 

24. Happy in this, sTie is not yet so old 
But she may learn ; happier than this, 
She is not bred so dull but she can learn : 
Happiest of all is, that her gentle spirit 
Commits itself to yours to be directed. 

Merchant of Venice, 

25. Mind is her best gift, and poetry her world ; 

And she will see strange beauty in a flower, 

As by a subtle vision. 

Willis. 

8* 



90 

I 26. A being of sudden smiles and tears, 

^ Passionate visions, quick liglit and shade. 

i Hemans. 



I 27. Little she speaks, but dear attentions 

< From her will ceaseless rise ; 

She checks our wants with kind preventions, 

And lulls the children's cries. 

Dr. Gilman. 

28. Oh when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd ! 
She was a vixen when she went to school, 
I And though she be but little, she is fierce. 

I Midsummer Nig/ifs Dream. 

\ 29. Graceful and useful all she does, 

5 

\ Blessing and blest where'er she goes. 



COWPKR. 



V 



30. She has an earnest intellect, a perfect thirst of mind, 
A heart by elevated thoughts and poetry refined. 

Willis. 

31. A timid grace sits trembling in her eye. 
Speaking most plain the thoughts which do possess 
Her gentle sprite, — peace, and meek quietness, 

And innocent love, and maiden purity. I 

Charles Lamb. 

32. She hath more hair than wit, ^ 
More faults than hairs. 
And more wealth than faults. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. i 



^ 91 

33. Her soul is morp than half divine, 

Where, through some shades of earthly feeling, 
Religion's soften 'd glories shine, 

Like light through summer foliage stealing. 

Moore 

34. She will turn from a love-breathing seraph away, 
If he come not apparell'd in purple and gold. 

Mrs. Osgood. 

35. She^ways her house, commands her followers, 
Takes and gives back affairs and their despatch. 
With a most smooth, discreet, and stable bearing. 

Twelfth Night. 

36. Spring hath no blossom fairer than her form. 

Winter no snow-wreath purer than her mind. 
The dew-drop trembling to the summer sun 

Is like her smile ; bright, transient, heaven-refined. 

Mrs. Pierson. \ 

37. She is a lady of confirmed honor, of an unmatcha- 

ble spirit, and determinate in all virtuous resolu- 
tions ; not hasty to anticipate an affront, nor slow 
to feel where just provocation is given. 

Charles Lamb. 

38. Her outward charms are less 
Than her winning gentleness ; 
With maiden purity of heart, 



92 

Which, without the aid of art, 

Does in coldest hearts inspire 

Love. 

James Aldrich. 

I 39. She dwells among us like a star, 
That from its bower of bliss 
- Looks down, yet gathers not a stain 
From aught it sees in this. 

Mrs. Welby. 

40. She in pleasant purpose doth abound. 
And greatly joyetb merry tales to feign. 

Spenser. 



41. Early and late, at her soul's gate, 
Sits Chastity in warder wise ; 
■ No thought unchallenged, small or great. 
Goes thence into her eyes ; 
Nor may a low, unworthy thought 
Beyond that virgin warder win. 
Nor one, whose password is not " ought," 
May go without, or enter in. 

J R. LOWELI. 



42. A light, busy foot astir 

In her small housewifery, the blithest bee 
That ever wrought in hive. 

MiTFOBD. 



^. 



93 

43. Practised to lisp and hang the head aside, 
Faint into airs, and languish into pride. 



Pope. 



44. She is ever fair, and never proud, 

Hath tongue at will, and yet is never loud. 

Othello 

45 I call her richly blest, 

In the calm meekness of her woman's breast, 

Where that sweet depth of still contentment 

lies ; 

And for her household love, which clings 

Unto all ancient and familiar things. 

Weaving from each some link for home's dear 

charities. 

Hemanb. 

46. She's peevish, sullen, froward, 
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

47. No simplest duty is forgot ; 
Life hath no dim and lowly spot 
That doth not in her sunshine share. 

- J. R. Lowell. 

48. Disdain and scorn ride sparkling in her eyes, 
\ Misprizing what they look on ; — and her wit 

j Values itself so highly, that to her 

> All matter else seems weak. 

J Much Ado About Nothing. 



I 94 ' 

\ 49. With despatch ful looks 

She turns, on hospitable thoughts latent, 
What choice to choose for delicacy best, " 
What order so contrived as not to mix 
Tastes not well join'd, inelegant, but bring 
Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change. 

Milton. 

50. None so gay as she ; 
Up hill and down, morning, and noon, and night. 
Singing or talking ; singing to herself 
When none give ear. 

Rogers — Italy. 

51. The green 
And growing leaves of seventeen 
Are round her; — and half hid, half seen, 

A violet flower ; 
Nursed by the virtues she hath been 
From childhood's hour. 

* Halleck. 

52. Blest with temper whose unclouded ray 
Can make to-morrow cheerful as to-day : 
Spleen, vapors, or small-pox, above them all, 
And mistress of herself .though china fall. 

Pope — Characters of Women. 

53. Seldom she speaks, but she will listen 

With all the signs of soul ; 



95 

Her cheek will change, her eye will glisten, 
As waves of feeling roll. 

Dr. GlLMAN. 

54. She bears a purse ; she is a region in Guiana, all 

gold and bounty. 

Merry Wives of Windsor. 

55. You are as rich in having such a jewel, 

As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearl. 
The, water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

56. Oh, she is a golden girl. 

But a man — a man should woo her ! 

They who seek her shrink aback, 

When they should like storms pursue her. 

Barry Cornwall. 

57. She is soft as the dew-drops that fall 
From the lip of the sweet-scented pea ; 
Perhaps when she smiled upon all. 

Thou hast thought that she smiled upon thee. 

Mackenzie — Man of Feeling 

\ 58. She is the cause of six matches being broken off, 

\ and three sons disinherited. 

i Sheridan. 

\ 

I 59. All her strain 

\ Is of domestic gladness, fire-side bliss, 

< 



96 \ 

And household rule ; nor thought loose, light, or c 

vain, 
Stains her pure vision of meek happiness. 

Allan Cunningham. 

60. She loves, but 'tis not you she loves, 

Not you on whom she ponders, 
When in some dream of tenderness 

Her truant fancy wanders. 
The forms that flit her vision through, 

Are like the shapes of old, 
Where tales of Prince and Paladin 

On tapestry are told. 
Man may not hope her heart to win, 

Be his of common mould. 

C. F. Hoffman. 



1 

I 

I 

WHAT IS THE CHARACTER OF HIM J 
WHO LOYES YOUt I 



Something that may serve to set in view 
Tlie doings, observations v/hich his mind 
Had dealt with — I will here record in verse. 

Wordsworth. 






WHAT IS THE CHAMCTEK OF HIM WHO 
LOVES YOU? 




— '.r.f,,,,^ F manners gentle, of affections mild, 
\ In wit a man, simplicity a child. 

POPK. 

^^^* 2. He has a shrewd wit, I can tell you ; 
and he's a man good enough ; he's one of the 
soundest judgments, and a proper man of person. 
Troilus and Cressida. 

3. Love, fame, and glory, with alternate sway 
Thrill his warm heart, and with electric ray 
Illume his eye ; yet still a shade of care, 
Like a light cloud that floats in summer air, 
Will shed a_t times a transitory gloom, 

But shadow not one grace of manly bloom. I 

^ Mrs. K. Ware. I 

4. He wounds no breast with jeer and jest, yet bears no ^ 

honey'd tongue, < 



100 

He's social with tlie gray-hair'd one, and merry 
with the young. 

Eliza Cook. 

5. A shallow brain behind a serious mask, 
An oracle within an empty cask ; 

He says but little, and that little said 

Owes all its weight, like loaded dice, to lead. 

CovvpER — Conversation. 

6. Fearless he is, and scorning all disguise ; 

What he dares do, or think, though men may start, 
He speaks with mild, yet unaverted eyes. 

Shelley. 

7. A lofty spirit- his, and somewhat proud ; 
Little gallant, and has a sort of cloud 
Hanging forever on his cold address. 

Leigh Hunt — Rimini. 

8. He writes brave verses, speaks brave words. 
Swears brave oaths, and breaks them as bravely 

As You Like It. 

9. In truth he is a strange and wayward wight, 
Fond of each gentle' and each dreadful scene ; 
In darkness and in storm he finds delight. 
Nor less than when on ocean's wave serene 
The southern sun displays his dazzling sheen. 

Beattie — Minstrel. 



101 

\ 10. There is in him so much man, so much goodness, 

I So much of honor, and of all things else 

I Which make our being excellent, that from his store 

I He can enough lend others. 

I Massinger. 

^11. He draweth out the staple of his verbosity finer than 
the, staple of his argument. 

Lovers Labour Lost. 



12. His words are strong, but not with anger fraught, 
A lore benignant he hath lived and taught ; 
To draw mankind to heaven by gentleness - 
And good example is his business. 



Chaucer. 

13. The monarch-mind, the mystery of commanding, 

The god-like power, the art Napoleon 
Of winning, fettering, moulding, wielding, banding 
The hearts of millions, till they move as one. 

Halleck. 

14. Devout, yet cheerful ; pious, not austere ; 
To others lenient, to himself severe. 

Dr. Harvey. 

15. With scrupulous care exact, he walks the rounds 
Of fashionable duty ; laughs whei sad. 

When merry weeps, deceiving is deceived, 
And flattering, flatter'd. 

POLLOK. 

9* 



102 

I 16. A fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. 

Hamlet, 

17. Erect, morose, determined, solemn, slow; 
Who knows the man can never cease to know. 

Crabbe. 

18. Rare compound of oddity, frolic, and fun. 
To relish a joke, and rejoice in a pun ! 

Goldsmith. 

19. He is a man 

Among a thousand. Unassuming, he 

May yet assume unquestion'd. Gentleness, 

And a strange strength, a calm o'erruling strength, 

Are mix'd within him so, that neither take 

Possession from the other, — neither rise 

In mastery or passion, but both grow _» 

Harmoniously together. 

W. G. SIMMS. 

20. For beauty and fortin' the laddie's been courtin', 
Weel featured, weel tochered, weel mounted and 

braw ! 

Burns. 



21. He will pick a quarrel for a straw, 
And fight it out to the extremity. 

Charles Lamb. 



%^ 



\ 103 



^22. He cannot flatter and speak fair, 

] Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and coy, 

Duck with French nods, and apish courtesy. 
) Richard III. 



23. A primrose by the river's brim 

A yellow primrose is to him, 

. And it is nothing more. 

Wordsworth. 

24. "His young bosom feels the enchantment strong 
Of light, and jov, and minstrelsy and song. 

PiERPONT— J.frs of Palestine. 

25. If he has any faults he leaves us in doubt, 
At least in six weeks we can't find them out. 

Goldsmith. 

26. The friend of man, the friend of truth. 
The friend of age, the guide of youth ; 
Few hearts like his with virtue warm'd, 
Few heads with knowledge so inform'd. 

Burns. 

27. If his body were opened, and you find so much 

blood in his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, 
I'll eat the rest of his anatomy. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

28. He hums and he hankers, he frets and he cankers. 
You never can please him, do a' that you can ; 
He's peevish and jealous of a' the young fellows. 

Burns. 



\ 104 

\ 29. An ample soul, 

'. Rockbound and fortified aixainst assaults 

j Of transitory passion, but below 

5 Built on a surcrinfr, subterraneous fire, 

\ That stirs and lifts him up to high attempts. 



Taylor. 



30. His very manners teach to amend, 
They are so even, grave and holy ; 
No stubbornness so stiff, nor folly 
To license ever was so light, 
As twice to trespass in his sight ; 
His look would so correct it when 
It chid the vice, yet not the men. 



Ben Jonson. 



31. He thinks, 
That he who fights and runs away 
May live to fight another day. 

B UTLE R — Hu dibras. 

32. He keeps his honesty and truth, 

His independent tongue and pen. 
And moves in manhood, as in youth, 
Pride of his fellow-men. 

Halleck. 

33. His life doth flow 
From its mysterious urn a sacred stream, I 
In whose calm depth the beautiful and pure | 



^ 


-3§ 


1 105 




\ 

\ Alone are mirror'd ; which, though shapes of ill 




\ May hover round its surface, glides in light, 




\ And takes no shadow from them. 




\ Tai.fourd — Ion. 




1 34 He is too costly for every day, 




; You would want another for working days. 




i Much Ado About Nothing. 


1 



35. Strange, that his nobly fashion'd mould. 
In which a very god might dwell, 
Should only live to dig for gold. 
And perish in its narrow cell ! 

BOWRING. 



36. 



He has no party rage, no sectary's whim ; 
Christian and countryman is all with him. 

Crabbe. 



37. Valiant he as fire. 

Showing danf]^er more than ire. 
Bounteous as the clouds to earth, 
And as honest as his birth ; 
All his actions they are such 
As to do no thing too much ; 
Nor o'erpraise, nor yet condemn, 
Nor outvalue, nor contemn. 
Nor do wrongs nor wrongs receive, 
Noi tie knots, nor knots unweave. 



35— 


'^'■''^'''^''^^^'^^'^'''''^^^^'^''^^^'■''^^^'^'''^^''^^^^ ,jjg 




106 


\ 


From all baseness to be free, I 


' 


As he durst love truth and thee. \ 




Ben Jonson. 


38. 


He snuffs far off the anticipated joy, 




Turtle and venison all his thoughts employ. • 


1 


COWPER. { 


39. 


< 
In his strength \ 


' 


The mighty oak has likeness ; gentleness I 




In him is like the rosy parasite, i 




The flush Spring gives it wrapping it around I 




With sweetest color and adorning grace. \ 




His soul, refined beyond the rustic world, \ 




Has yet no city vices. He has kept I 


': 


Its whiteness unprofaned. ^ 




W. G. SIMMS. j 


40. 


He'll never learn his bark to steer 




'Mid passion's sudden, wild career, 




Nor try at times to tack and veer 




To interest's gale. 




But hoist the sheet, unawed by fear 




Though storms prevail. 


<41. 


Hector Macneil. 


A fair example of his own pure creed, ; 


\ 


Patient of error, pitiful to need, I 


i 


Persuasive wisdom in his thoughtful mien. < 


I 


Mrs. Sigourney. ] 



% 



107 



\ 42. One of that stubborn sort he is, 

\ Who if they once grow fond of an opinion, 

\' They call it honor, honesty, and faith, 

> And sooner part with life than let it go. 

l RowE — Jane Shore. 

i. 

> 
< 

I 43. Virtue's his path, but sometimes 'tis too narrow 

I For his vast soul, and then he starts wide out, 

\ And bounds into a vice that bears him far 

I From his first course, and plunges him in ills. 
s Dryden — All for Love. 

\ 44. A man whom storms can never make 

I Meanly complain, nor can a flattering gale 

.^ Make him talk proudly. 



Dr. Watts. 

45. He'll prattle shrewdly with such witty folly. 

As almost betters reason. 

John Howard Payne. 

46. Heed not, though at times he seem 

Dark and still, and cold as clay ; 

He is shadow'd by his dream, 

But 'twill pass away. 

Barry Cornwall. 

47. He quick is anger'd, and as quick 

His short-lived passion's over-past, 

I Like summer lightnings, fla-shing thick, 

J But flying ere a bolt is cast. 

5 E. D. Griffin. 



I ^108 I 

i 48. Oil, he's as tedious | 

As a tired horse, a railing wife, 
\ Worse than a smoky house 

I Henry IV. 

49. ■ Love, the germ 
\ Of his mild nature, hath spread graces forth, 

Expanding with its progress ; as the store 
I Of rainbow color, which the seed conceals, 

Sheds out its tints from its dim treasury 
To flush and circle in the flower. 

Talfourd. — Ion 

50. He is but what need I say that or this, 

I'd spend a month to tell ye what he is ! 

Ramsay — Gentle Shepherd. 

51. With maids he's softer than the clouds in May ; 
I But had you seen him, lady, in his ire. 

When, like one born of thunder, he did march 
\ And strike down men as stubble sinks in fire — 

? But then he hath a tongue could wile 

I The laverock from the cloud. 

\ Allan Cunningham. 

\ 52. Within his soul 

\ Springs up a deep sense of the beautiful, 

{ The holy, the exalted, and a love 

I Embracing in its circle all creation. | 

I Lady Flora Hastings. > 



I 109 I 

^ 53. He so light is at legerdemain, \ 

That what he touches comes not to light again. i 

Spenser. i 

\ 

54. Though learn'dj well-bred ; and though well-bred, I 

sincere ; 
Modestly bold, and humanely severe. 

Pope. 

55. To express his mind to sense, 
Would ask a heaven's intelligence, 
Since nothing can report that flame 
But what's of kin to whence it came. 

Ben Jonson. 

56. A littfe, upright, pert, tart, tripping wight, i 

That holds his precious self his dear delight, \ 

And loves his own smart shadow in the street. | 

Burns. \ 
\ 
\ 

57. No caprice of mind, * \ 
No passing influence of idle time, \ 
No popular show, no clamor from the crowd I 
Can move him, erring, from the path of right. \ 

W. G. SIMMS. I 

58. Wasting his life for his country's care, \ 
Laying it down with a patriot's prayer. | 

Barry Cornwall. i 



j5 



110 



I 59. A man whose sober soul can tell 

\ How to wear her garments well, 

I Her garments that upon her sit 

\ As garments should do, close and fit ; 

\ A well-clothed soul, that's not oppress'd 

I Nor choked with what she should be dress'd ; 

j A soul sheath'd in a crystal shrine, 

Through which all her bright features shine. 

Crashaw. 

I 60. And still we gaze, and still the wonder grows. 
That one small head can carry all he knows. 
Goldsmith — Deserted Village. 



M 



I?' 



WHAT SEASON OF THE YEAR DO YOU LOVE ] 



January gray is here. 

Like a sexton by a grave ; 

February bears the bier, 

March with grief doth howl and rave, 

And April weeps ; but oh, ye hours, 

Follow with May's fairest flowers. 



Shelley. 



The season^s of the year,- 
some arm'd in silver ice that glisten, 



And some in gaudy green, come in like masquers. 

Beaumont ajvb Fletcher. 



i 



'^ 



WHAT SEASON OF THE YEAR DO YOU LOYE ? 




HE bold 3IarcJi wind ! 

The merry, boisterous, bold March 

wind ! 
Who in the violet's tender eyes 
Casts a kiss, — and forward flies. 
Barry Cornwall. 



2. The beautiful spirit of Spring, 

When the demons of Winter before her fly, 
While the gentle fan of her delicate wing 
Repels the ardor of Summer's eye. 

James Nack. 



3. Thou lovest the merry Summer months of beauty, 

song, and flowers. 
Thou lovest the gladsome months that bring thick 

leafiness to bowers ! 
Up, up, thy heart, and walk abroad, fling cark and 

care aside, 
Seek silent hills, or rest thyself where peaceful 

waters glide. 



H 



10* 



-^ 



114 

Or, underneath the shadow vast of patriarchal tree, 
Scan through its leaves the cloudless sky in rapt 
tranquillity. 

MOTIIERWE^X. \ 

4. The eventide of Summer, when the trees \ 
Yield their fresh honors to the passing breeze, '< 

And woodland paths with autumn tints are dyed ; $ 

When the mild sun his paling lustre shrouds \ 

In gorgeous draperies of golden clouds. \ 

Mrs. E. C. Embury. \ 

5. When on the breath of Autumn breeze, \ 

From pastures dry and brown, | 

Goes floating, like an idle thought, I 

The fair white thistle-down. I 

Mary Howitt. 

6. A day of Winter beauty. Thi'ough the night 
The hoar-frost gather'd o'er each leaf and spray, 
Weaving its filmy net-work, thin and bright. 
And shimmering like silver in the ray 
Of the soft sunny morning; — turf and tree 
Prank'd in delicate embroidery. 
And every wither'd stump and mossy stone 
With gems encrusted and with seed-pearls sown ! 

Mrs. Whitman. 

7. When Maij, 
With her cap crown'd with roses, 



^- 



115 



^ Stands in her holiday drevSs in the fields, and the 

I wind and the brooklet 

I Murmur gladness and peace, God's peace! with \ 

lips rosy tinted, 

Whisper the race of the flowers, and merry, on 

balancing branches, 

Birds are singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to 

the Highest. 

Longfellow. 

8. Autumn eventide ; 
When sinking on the blue hill's breast, the sun 
Spreads the large bounty of his level blaze, 
Lengthening the shade of mountains and tall trees. 

George Lunt. 

9. When on a keen December night, Jack Frost 

Drives through mid air his chariot icy-wheel'd. 
And from the sky's crisp ceiling, star-emboss'd. 
Whiffs off the clouds that the pure blue concealed. 
Tennent — Anster Fair. 



10. When Spring, advancing, calls her feather'd quire. 
And tunes to softer notes her laughing lyre ; 
Musk'd in the rose's lap fresh dews are shed. 
And breathe celestial lustres round her head. 
^ ' Darwin. 

> 11. June with its roses, June ! 

\ The gladdest month of the capricious year. 



116 

With its thick foliage, and its sunlight clear, 

And with a drowsy tune 
Of the bright leaping waters, as they pass 
Laughingly on, amid the springing grass ! 

W. H. Burleigh. 

12. When Autumn, like a faint old man, sits down 
By the wayside, a-weary. 

Longfellow. 

13. Winter, shod with fleecy snow. 

Who Cometh white, and cold, and mute, 
Lest he should wake the Spring below. 

Barry Cornwall. 

14. When the south wind in May days, 
With a net of shining haze, 
Silvers the horizon wall ; . 
And with softness touching all, 
Tints the human countenance 
With a color of romance, 
And infusing gentle heats, 
Turns the sod to violets. 

R. W. Emerson, 

15. When Springes unfolded blooms 
Exhale in sweetness, that the skilful bee 

\ May taste, at will, from their selected spoils, 

^ To work her dulcet sweet. 

^ Akenside — Pleasures of the Imagination. < 



'^ 



• 117 

16. The joyous Winter days, 
When sits the soul intense, collected, cool, 
Bright as the skies, and as the season keen. 

Thomson. 

17. The Spring, as she passes along 

With her eye of light, and her lip of song. 

W. G. Clark. 

18. October ! Heaven's delicious breath, 
When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf. 
And suns grow meek, and the meek sun grows 

brief. 
And the year smiles, as drawing near- its death. 

W. C. Bryant. 

19. The April rain \ the April rain ! 

To list the pleasant sound, 
Now soft and still like gentle dew, 

Now drenching all the ground. 
Pray tell me why an April shower 

Is pleasanter to see, 
Than falling drops of other rain ? 

I'm sure it is to thee. 

Mrs. Seba Smith. 

20. Spring, when from yon blue-topp'd mountain 

She leaves her green print 'neath each spreading 
tree, 



118 

Her tuneful voice beside the swelling fountain 
Giving sweet notes to its wild melody. 

Julia H. Scott. 

21. A season aiween June and May, 

Half prankt with Spring, with summer half em- 
brown'd. 

Thomson — Castle of Indolence. 

22. When comes the calm, mild day, as still such days 

will come. 

To call the squirrel and the bee from out their win- 
ter home ; 

When the sound o? dropping nuts is heard, though 
all the trees are still, 

And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the 
rill ; 

The south wind searches for the flowers whose 
fragrance late he bore, 

And sighs to find them in the wood, and by the 
stream no more. 

W. C. Bryant. 

23. Brave Winter and thou shalt ever agree. 
Though a stern and frowning gaffer is he ; 
You like to hear him, with hail and rain, 
Come tapping against the window pane ; 
You joy to see him come marching forth, 
Begirt with the icicle gems of the north; 



ST' 



119 

But you like him best when he comes bedight 
In his velvet robes of stainless white. 

EnzA Cook. 

24. When " adieu !" father Winter has sadly said 

To the world, when about withdrawing. 
With his old white wig half off his head, 
And his icicle fingers thawing f 

Miss H. F. Gould. 

25. Gentle May, 
She with her robe of flowers ; 

She with her sun and sky, her clouds and showers ! 
Who bringeth forth unto the eye of day. 
From their imprisoning and mysterious night. 
The buds of many hues, the children of her light. 

J. Lawrence, Jr. 

26. The last days of Autumn, when the corn 
Lies sweet and mellow in the harvest-field, 
And the gay company of reapers bind 
The bearded wheat in sheaves. 

I. McLellan. 

27. Drear Winter/ 
With no unholy awe we hear thy voice, 
As by our dying embers, safely housed. 
We in deep silence .-use. 

H. K. White. I 



120 

28. You love to go in the capricious days 
Of April, and hunt violets, when the rain 

Is in their blue cups, trembling as they nod 
So gracefully, to kisses of the wind. 

N. P. Willis. 

29. Merry, ever merry May ! 

Made of sun-gleams, shades, and showers, 
Bursting buds, and breathing flowers ; 
Dripping-lock'd, and rosy-vested, 
Violet-slipper'd, rainbow-crested, 
Girdled with the eglantine, 
Festoon 'd with the flowering vine ! 

Gallagher. 

30. When the warm sun is failing, the bleak wind is 

wailing, 
The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are 
dying, 

And the year, 
On the earth her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves 
dead. 

Is lying. 



Shelley. 



31. When the angel of dread Winter cometh. 
But not in apger. As he speeds along. 
Borne on the chilling wind, he bids appear 
A thousand varied hues tl > trees among ! 
What magic beauty doth h j presence fling 



121 

Round every leaf that quivers in the dell, 
Or shrub that to the mountain side doth clihg I 
And the bright scene the calm lake mirrors well, 
As if within its depths were wove some golden spell. 

H. F. Harrington. 

32. Delicious Spring ! 

Nursed in the lap of thin and subtle showers, 

> Which fall from clouds that lift their snowy wing > 
\ From odorous buds of light-enfolded flowers, 

\ And from enmassed bowers, 

I That over grassy walks their greenness fling. 

< Albert Pike. 

i 33. The Summer, the radiant Summer's the fairest, 

> For green woods and mountains, for meadows 
I and bowers, 

? For waters and fruits, and for flowers the rarest, 

\ And for bright shining butterflies, lovely as flow- 

r ers. 

< Mary Howitt. 

i 34. When September's golden day, 
5 Serenely still, intensely bright. 

Fades on the umber'd hills away 
And melts into the coming night. 

Mrs. Whitman 

35. When Autumn chills the foliage, and sheds 

\ O'er the piled leaves, among the evergreens, 

f All colors and all tints to grace the scene. 
i RuFus Dawes. 

11 



122 






36. Ho! jewel -keeper of the hoary North ! \ 
Whence hast thou all thy treasures ? Why, the \ 

mines \ 

Of rich Golconda, since the world was you'ng, 
Would fail to furnish such a glorious show ! 

Yes, the Wintry king, 
So long decried, hath revenue more rich 
Than sparkling diamonds ! 

Mrs. Sigourney. > 

\ 

37. When Spring i 
From sunny slopes comes wandering, > 
Calling violets from the sleep, j 
That bound them under the snow-drift deep, j 
To open their childlike, asking eyes 

1 On the new summer paradise. 

I ~ J. R. Lowell 

( 38. Autumn ! how lovely is thy pensive air! 

But chief the sounds from thy reft woods delight ; 
Their deep, low murmurs to the soul impart 
A solemn stillness. 

Mrs. Tighe — Psyche 

39. When Winter nights grow long, 1 

And winds without blow cold, ', 

And we sit in a ring round the warm hearth-fire, < 

And listen to stories old. | 

Barry Cornwaix. ) 



123 



40. 



Spring ; 



When blushing like a bride from Hope's trim bower, 
She leaps, awakened by the pattering shower. 

Coleridge. 



41. Autumn dark on the mountains; when gray mists 

rest on the hills. The whirlwind is heard on 
the heath. Dark rolls the river through the 
narrow plain. The leaves whirl with the wind, 
and strew the graves of the dead. ' 

OSSIAN. 

42. When the rosy-bosom'd Hours, 

Fair Venus' train, appear ; 
Disclose the long-expected flowers, 

And wake the purple year. 
The attic warbler pours her throat. 
Responsive to the cuckoo's note. 

The untaught harmony of 5|pm^/ 
While, whispering pleasure as they fly, 
Cool zephyrs, through the clear blue sky. 

Their gather'd fragrance fling. 

Gray. 

43. When golden Autumn from her open lap 
The fragrant bounty showers. 

SoMERViLLE — The CTiace. 



44. Dark Winter is a happy time : 

God gives the earth repose, and earth bids man 



124 \ 

Wipe his hot brow.-j the poet pours his rhyme, | 

And mirth awakes. \ 

Allan Cumningiiam. \ 

\ 

45. When S/;W7?^-//(/e approaches ; ^ 

Leaf by leaf is developed, and warm'd by the ] 

radiant sunshine, \ 

Blushes with purple and gold, till at last the per- ] 

• fected blossom ^ 

Opens its odorous chalice, and rocks with its crown 5 

to the breeze. . \ 

Longfellow. \ 



46. The first day of ilf«?/. 

When the sun is rejoicing alone in heaven, 

The clouds have all hurried away. 
Down in the meadow the blossoms are waking, 
Light on their twigs the young leaves are shaking, 
Round the warm knolls the lambs are a-leaping, 
The colt from his fold o'er the pasture is sweeping, 
And on the bright lake, 
The little waves break, 
For there the cool west is at play. 

J. G. Percival. 



< 47. The desolate and dying year, 

\ Yet lovely in its lifelessness, 

I As beauty stretch'd upon the bier, 

\ In death's clay-cold and dark caress ; 



I 125 

There's loveliness in its decay, 
Which breathes, which lingers bn it still. 
\ J. G. Bkooks. 

\ 48. Pale, rugged Winter, bending o'er his tread, 
His grizzled hair bedropt with icy dew ; 
His eyes a dusky light, congeal'd and dead. 
His robe a tinge of bright ethereal blue. 

Chatterton. 

49. The uncertain glory of an April day, 

Which now shows all the beauty of the skies. 
And by and by a cloud taikes all away. 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

50. When the sun 
More darkly tinges Spring's fair brow. 

And laughing fields have just begun 
The Sujiuner's golden hues to show ; 
* Earth still with flowers is richly dight, 
And the last rose in gardens bides to glow. 

George Bancroft. 

51. The pryde, the manJiode of the yeare. 

When eke the ground is dight in its most deft* 

aumere.-j- 

Rowley — (Chatterton.) 

52. An Autumn night 
With a piercing sight. 

And a step both strong and free ; 

* Ornamental. t Mantle. 



126 

And a voice for wonder, 
Like the wrath of the thunder, 
When he shouts to the stormy sea! 

Barry Cornwall. 

53. When Springes first gale 
Comes forth to wliisper where the violets lie. 

Mrs. Hemans. 

54. When 
The breath of Winter comes from far away, 

And the rich w^est continually bereaves 

Of some gold tinge, and plays a roundelay ? 

Of death among the bushes and the leaves. \ 

Keats. i 

55. When Spring pours out his showers, as is his wont, \ 
And bathes the breathing tresses of meek eve. \ 

Collins. \ 

\ 

56. Autumn skies, when all the woods are hung \ 

With many tints, the fading livery 

Of life, in which it mourns the coming storms 

Of winter ; when the quiet winds awake 

Faint dirges in the wither'd leaves, and breathe 

Their sorrow through the grove. 

Percival. 

\ 

> 
\ 57. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, | 

i A box where sweets compacted lie. * \ 

\ Old Herbert. ] 



> i 

I 127 { 

i 58. When a soft haze is hanging o'er the hill, 
i Tinged with a purple light. How beautiful, 

And yet how cold ! 'Tis the first robe put on 
? By sad Octoler. 

\ W. G. SiMMS. 



\ 59, Spring doeth all she can, I trow; 

s She brings the bright hours, 

\ She weaves the sweet flowers, 

^ She dresseth her bowers 

I For all below. 

} Barry Cornwall. 

^60. ~ Spring time, 

\ Which crumbles Winter's gyves with tender might, 

\ When in the genial breeze, (the breath of God,) 

J Come spouting up the unseal'd springs to light. 

Flowers start from their dark prisons at our feet, 
\nd woods, long dumb, awake to hymnings sweet. 

Bryant. 



% 



'^^ 



WHAT HOUR DO YOU LOYE? 



Mysterious round! v/hat skill, what force divine, 
Deep felt, in these appear ! A simple train 
Yet so delightful, mix'd witlr such kind art, 
Such beauty and beneficence combined. 
Shade unperc^ived so softening into shade, 
- And all so forming an harmonious whole, 
That as thef still succeed, they ravish still. 

Thomson 

The winged Hours ! 
Commission'd in alternate watch they stand. 
The sun's bright portals, and the skies, command j 
Close or unfold the eternal gates of day. 
Bar heaven v/ith clouds, or roll those clouds away. 

N. Drvden's Virgil. 



5 

l^ J 



WHAT HOUE DO YOU LOVE ? 




HEN, from ebon streak, 

The moon puts forth a little diamond 

peak, 
No bigger than an unobserved star, 
Or tiny point of fairy cimeter ; 
Bright signal, that she only stoops to tie 
\ Her silver sandals, ere deliciously 
I She bows into the heavens her timid head. 
\ Keats. 

\ 2. When morning cometh, with a still 

\ And gliding mystery, on the breaking gray 

I Of the fresh east. 

I W. G. SiMMS. 



3. When the stars are out — 



< Cold, but still beautiful, — a crowded choir, 
\ Harmonious in their heavenly minstrelsy. 



Dawks. 



132 

4. When blue-eyed day- 

Has yielded up her regency, and night, 
Exceedino: beautiful, resumes her right 



As solemn watchman. 



Miss M. E. Lee. 



5. When sunk the sun, and up the eastern heaven, 
Like maiden on a' lonely pilgrimage, 

Moves the meek star of eve. 

MiLMAN 

6. When PhcBhiis, fresh as bridegroom to his mate, 
Comes dauncing forth, shaking his dewie hayre. 
And hurls his glistering beams through gloomy ayre 

Spenser. 

s 7. When on the sunlit limits of the night, 

Her white shell trembling amid crimson air. 
Glides the young moon. 

Shellev. 

8. When clouds lay cradled near the seiting sun, 
And gleams of crimson tinge their braided snow. 
* ^ Wilson. 



^ 9. When the glorious sun has gone, 

< And the gathering darkness of 7iight comes on ; 

\ Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows; 

^ To shade the couch where, his, children repose. 
\ " H. Ware, Jr. 



>: 



! 133 I 

I 10. You love the deep, deep pause, that reigns 

I At highest noon, o'er hills and plains. 

i Carrington. 

I 

J 11. When the stars do disappear, 

I With only one remaining, 

I The morning star alone ; 

\ Just like a maid complaining, 

When all her hopes are gone. 

William Crafts. 

12. When climbs above the eastern bar 

The horned moon, with one bright star 

Within the nether lip. 

Coleridge. 

13. When comes forth the glorious clay, 

Like a bridegroom richly dight, 
And before his flashing ray 

Flies the sullen, vanquish'd night. 

S. G. BULFINCH. 

14. When Apollo doth devise 

\ A new apparelling for western skies. 

< Keats. 

\ 15. Ere the evening lamps are lighted, 

I And like phantoms, grim and tall, 

I Shadows, from the fitful flre-light, 

\ Dance upon the parlor v/all. 

\ Longfellow. 

12 ' 



134 I 

\ 16. When like a dying lady, lean and pale, 

Wlio totters forth, vvrapp'd in a gauzy veil, \ 

Out of her chamber,-led by the insane | 

And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, | 

The moon arises on the murky earth. \ 

Shelley. i 
I 

17. Morning in your garden, when each leaf of crisped 

green 
Hangs tremulous in diamonds, with em'rald rays i 

between. 

It is the birth of nature, baptized in early dew. 

The plants look meekly up and smile as if their 

God they knew. 

Mrs. GiLMAN. 

18. Ah, let the gay the roseate morning hail, 

When, in the various blooms of light array'd. 
She bids fresh beauty live along the vale, > 

And rapture tremble in the vocal shade. \ 

Sweet is the lucid morning's opening flower, \ 

Her choral melodies benignly rise ; j 

Yet" dearer to your soul the shadowy hour 

At which her blossoms close, her music dies. 
Miss H. M. Williams. 

19. The middle watch of a summer's night, 
When earth is dark, but the heavens are bright : \ 
Naught is seen in the vault on high, \ 
But the moon, and the stars, and the cloudless sky, > 



^ 135 \ 



And the flood, which roUs its milky hue, 
A river of white on the welkin blue. 

Drake. 

i 20. When little birds begin discourse, 

In quick, low voices, ere the streaming light 
Pours on their nests from out the day's fresh source. 

R. H. Dana. 

21. Morning] when the sun pours his first light 
Amid a forest, and with ray aslant, 
Entering its depth, illumes the branchless pines, 
Brightening their bark, tinging with redder hue 
Its rusty stains, and casting on the earth 
Long lines o^ shadow, where they rise erect 
Like pillars of a temple. 

SouTHEY — Madoc. 



22. Sunrise, slanting on a city, when 

j The early risen poor are coming in, 

I Duly and cheerfully to toil, and up 

> Rises the hammer's clink, with the far hum 
Of moving wheels, and multitudes astir, 

I And all that in a city murmur swells. 

I N. P. Willis. 

I 9,?. When the west • 

\ Opens her golden bowers o^ rest, 

'< And a moist radiance from the skies 

> Shoots trembling down, as from the eye^ 




136 

or some meek penitent, whose last 
Brif;;ht hours atone for dark ones past, 
And whose sweet tears o'er wrong forgiven, 
Shine, as they fall, with light from heaven. 

Moore — Lalla Rookh. 



^ 

\ 



X 24. The midnight hour, when 

\ Slow through the studious gloom, thy pausing eye, 

Led by the glimmering taper, moves around 

The sacred volumes of the dead. 

Akenside — Pleasures of the Imagination. 

25. When evening'' s virgin Queen 

Sits on her fringed throne serene, 
And mingling whispers, rising near. 
Steal on the still reposing ear. 

H. K. White. 



26. When the moon riseth as if dreaming. 
Treading with still white feet the lulled sea. 

From the Etonian. 

27. When day hath put on his jacket, and around 
His burning bosom button 'd it with stars. 

O. W. Holmes. 



28. MorMng, with all her attributes ; the sijw 

Impearling of the heavens, the sparkling white 
On the webb'd grass, the fragrant mistiness, 
The fresh airs, with the twinkling leaves at sport, 



§t. 



^^5 



^- 



i 


137 


j 




And all the gradual and emerging light, 


1 




The crystalline distinctness settling clear, 


> 


i 


And all the wakening of strengthening sound. 






MiLMAN — Lord of the Bright City. 


j 


29. 


Her tivilight robe v/hen nature wears, 
And evening sheds her sweetest tears, 


? 


j- ' 


Which every thirsty plant receives. 
While silence trembles on the leaves. 


1 




From every tree, and flower, and bush, 


\ 




There seems to breathe a soothing hush, 






While every transient sound but shows 


i 


1 


How deep and still is the repose. 

Mrs. Follen. 


I 


1 80. 


When as the evening, shades prevail, 
The moon takes up her wondrous tale, 






And, nightly, to the listening earth 






Proclaims the story of her birth. 






While all the stars that round her burn, _ 






And all the planets in their turn, 






Confirm the tidings as they roll. 






And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

Addison. 




31. 


When thronging constellations rush in crowds. 




1 


Paving with fire the sky. 

Shelley. 


s 


: 32. 


A heautiful sunset, when warm o'er the lake 




, 


Its splendor, at parting, a summer eve throws^ 




^.^ 




< 



12* 



^ 138 ' 

Like a bride full of blushes, when lingering to take 
A last look of her mirror at night ere she goes. ' 
Moore — Lalla Rookh. 

\ 33. The midniglit hour, 

\ The starlight wedding of the earth and heaven, 

I When music breathes in perfume from the flower, 

\ And high revealings to the heart are given. 

; S. L. Fairfield. 

\ 34. Weel may'st thou welcome the night's deathly reign, 
Wi' souls of the dearest ye're mingling then ; 

i The gowd light o' rnornin' is lightless to thee, 

\ But, oh ! for the night wi' its ghost revel rie. 

? William Thom. 

\ 

] 35. Come, stir the fire, and close the shutters fast; 

\ Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round ; 

\ And while the bubbling and loud hissing urn 
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups 

; That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, 

\ So will you welcome cheerful evening in. 

\ CowpER — Task. 

^36. When the moon 

Bends her new silver bow, as if to fling 
Her arrowy lustre through some vapor's wing. 

Park Benjamin. 

37. Be it the summer noon ; a sandy space 
The ebbing tide has left upon its place, 



^ 139 

> 

\ While the broad basin of the ocean keeps - 

I An equal motion, swelling as it sleeps, 

I Then, slowly sinking, curling to the strand, 

I Faint, lazy waves o'er-creep the ridgy sand. 

i Ships in the calm seem anchor'd, for they glide 

i On the still sea, urged solely by the tide. 

\ Crabbe. 

s 

\ 

\ 38. Night; when the stars are gemming heaven, 
] And seem like angels' eyes, 

I Resuming still their silent watch 

Within the far-off skies. 
When tenderly they gaze on us, 

Those children of the air. 
While every ray they send to us 



Some message seems to bear. 



Miss Lewis. 



39 The Sabhaih morn 

So sweet ; — all sounds save nature's voice are still ; 

Mute shepherd's song-pipe, mute the harvest horn, 

A holier tongue is given to brook and rill ; 

Old men climb silently their cottage-hill. 

There ruminate, and look sublime abroad. 

Shake from their feet, as thought on thought comes 

still, 
The dust of life's long, dark, and dreary road. 
And rise from this gross earth, and give the day to 
God. 

Thomas Miller. 



^ 



140 ] 



40. When the fair young moon in a silver bow 

Looks back from the bending west, 
Like a weary soul that is glad to go 

To the long-sought place of rest. 
When her crescent lies in a beaming crown, 

On the distant hill's dark head, 
Serene as the rio^hteous lookinir down 

On the world from his dying-bed. 

Miss H. F. Gould. 

41. When gleaming through the gorgeous fold 
Of clouds, around his glory roll'd, 

The orh of gold, half hid, half seen, 
Swells his rays of tremulous sheen. 
That, widely as the billows roll, 
Glance quivering on their distant goal. 

SoTHEBY — Constance de Castile. 

42. When, like lobster boiled, the morn 
From black to red begins to turn. 

Butler — Hudibras. 

43. When in mid air, on seraph wing, 
The paly moo7i is journeying 

In stillest paths of stainless blue. 
Keen, curious stars are peering through 
Heaven's arch this hour; they dote on he} 
With perfect love, nor can she stir 
Within her vaulted halls apace. 



.^ 



141 



Ere, rushing out with joyous face, 

These Godkins of the sky 
Smile as she glides in loveliness. 
While every heart beats high 
With passion, and breaks forth to bless 
I Her loftier divinity. 

I Motherwell. 



s 44. When comes still evening on, and twilight gray 

\ Hath in her sober livery all things clad, 

l Silence accompanying. 

I Milton — Paradise Lost. 

I 45. When calm the grateful air, and loth to lose 

I Day's grateful warmth, though moist with falling 

^ dews ', 

I' Look for the stars, you'll say that there are none ; 

j Look up a second time, and one by one 

i You mark them twinkle out, with silvery light, 

\ And wonder how they could elude your sight. 

< Wordsworth. 

c 

' 46. When your fire, with dim unequal light, 

Just glimmering, bids each shadowy image fall 

•> Sombrous and strange upon the darkening wall, 

I Ere the clear taper chase the deepening night. 
I W. L. Bowles. 

i 
\ 
I 47. When the sun's broad orb 

^ Seems resting on the burnish'd wave. 



??■ 



142 

And lines 
Of purple gold hang motionless, 
Above the sinking sphere. 



Shklley. 



J 48. Morn breaking in the east. Wh6n purple clouds 
\ Are putting on their gold and violet, 

I To look the meeter for the sun's bright coming. 

N. P. Willis. 

49. When the day 

In golden slumber sinks, with accent sweet 
Mild evening comes, to lure the willing feet 

With her to stray. 
Where'er the bashful flowers the observant eye 
may greet. 

H. Pickering. 

50. T\\e \ig\\\. o^ midnight skies 

When the red meteor rides the cloud. 

Miss Landon. 



I 51. When at noon, 

\ High on his throne, the visible lord of light 

• Rides in his fullest blaze, and dashes wide 

\ Thick flashes from his wheels. 

< J. G. Percival. 

52. Night on the waves, when the moon is on high, 
Hung like a gem on the brow of the sky, 



.^..i5| 



Treading its depths in the power of her might, i 

And turning the clouds as they pass her to light. I 

J. K. Hervey. I 

\ 

53. When yonder western throng of clouds 

Retiring from the sky, 
So calmly move, so softly glow, 

They seem, to fancy's eye, 
Bright creatures of a better sphere, 
Come down at noon to worship here. 
And from their sacrifice of love 
Returning to their courts above. 

G. D. Prentice. 

54. When the moon, her lids unclosing, deigns 

To smile serenely on the charmed sea, 
That shines, as if inlaid with lightning chains. 
From which it hardly struggled to be free. 

Epes Sargent. 

55. The high festival of night, 
When earth is radiant with delight, 
And fast as weary day retires 
The heaven unfolds its secret fires, 
Bright, as when first the firmament 
Around the new-made world was bent, 

i And infant seraphs pierced the blue, 

I Till rays of heaven came shining through 

\ W. B. O. Peabody. 

ft. 



if' 

I ■ 144 I 

56. When the sun i 

Rises, visiting earth with light, and heat, { 

And joy ; and seems as full of youth, and strong ^ 

To mount the steep of heaven, as when the stars \ 

Of morninnj sani^ to his first dawn. I 

PoLLOK — Course of Time. i 

,57. Let others hail the oriflarame of morn, \ 

O'er kindling hills unfurl'd, with gorgeous dyes, \ 

Oh, mild blue evening, still to thee we turn, \ 

With holier thoughts and with undazzled eyes. \ 

R. C. Sands. \ 



58. Night-; when a cloud, which through the sky, i 
I Sailing alone, doth cross in her career I 
\ The rolling moon ; — to watch it as'it comes, I 
\ And deem the deep opaque will blot her beams ; ^ 
j But melting like a wreath of snow, it hangs I 
I In folds of wavy silver round, and clothes J 
\ The orb with richer beauties than her own ; \ 
>. Then, passing, leaves her in her light serene. { 
^ SouTHEY — Madoc. \ 

59. Thine own loved moon''s, > 
That every soft and solemn spirit worships ; > 
That lovers love so well ; strange joy is hers, \ 
Whose influence o'er all tides of soul hath power. 
She lends her light to rapture and despair ; 
The glcw of hope, and wan hue of sick fancy. 
Alike reflect her rays ; alike they light 



n 



145 



I The path of meeting or of parting love ; 

\ Alike on mingling or on breaking hearts 

? She smiles in throned beauty. 

^ Maturin — Bertram. 

I 60. Sunrise ; 

Rolling back the clouds into 

J 'Vapors more lovely than the unclouded sky, 

I With golden pinnacles and snowy mountains, 

I And billows purpler than the ocean's, making 

I In heaven a glorious mockery of the earth, 

J So lilje, we almost deem it permanent ; 

i So fleeting, we can scarcely call it aught 

i Beyond a vision, 'tis. so transiently 

J Scatter'd along the eternal vault ; and yet 

< It dwells upon the soul, and sooths the soul, 

^ And blends itself into the soul, until 

^ Sunrise and sunset form the haunted epoch 

^ Of sorrow and of love. 
c ' Byron — Sardanapalus. 






ll^ 



WHAT MUSICAL SOUNDS DO YOU LOVE ? 



] Oh for some soul-afFecting scheme 

< Of moral music. 

\ W"ORDS WORTH. 

\ Music, round her creep 

', Seek her out, and when you find her, 

>. Gentle, gentlest music, wind her 

\ Round and round, 

\ Round and round, 

With your bands of softest sound. 

Barky Cornwall 



WHAT MUSICAL SOUNDS DO YOU LOVE? 



HE sweet and solemn sound | 

Of Sabbath worshippers. i 
W. C. Bryant. 

2. The hugle, silver-tipp'd, I 

That with a breath, long-drawn, | 
and slow-expiring, 
Sends forth that strain, which, echoing through the 

wilds, \ 

Tells of a loved one's glad return. ] 

SOUTHEY. \ 




The voice of waters, and the sheen 
0^ silYer fountains leaping to the sea. 



N. P. W1LL1& 



The liumhee singing 
Drowsily among the flowers, 

Sleepily, sleepily, 
fn the noontide swayeth he, 
Half balanced on a slender stalk. 



J. R. Lowell. 



13* 



150 I 

I 
One voice, in its low, musical depth, ^ 

More dear and thrilling than the crowds* applause; '< 

Even as the far-ofTnnurmur of the surge, < 

Heard at hush'd eve, is sweeter than the honnage J 

Of waves tumultuous, dashing at your feet. > 

Mrs. Ellet. ^ 



Small voices, and an old guitar, 

Winning their way to an unguarded heart. 

Rog«:rs — Italy. 



7. When soft music comes to thine ear, as thou liest \ 

at night, thine eyes half closed in sleep, and thy s 

soul as a stream flowing at pleasant sounds. ; 

It is like the rising breeze that whirls at first the \ 

thistle's beard, then flies dark-shadowy over the i 

grass. \ 

OSSIAN. \ 



8. Kissing cymbals making merry din. 



9. Merry cricket, twittering thing ! 
How you love to hear it sing ! 
Chirping tenant, child of mirth, 
Minstrel of the poor man's hearth. 



Keats. 



Eliza Cook. 



10. The wild enchanting horn ! 

Whose music up the deep and dewy air, 



^ 



151 ^ 

I Swells to the clouds, and calls on echo there, 

^ Till a new melody is born. 

\ GrENVILLE M ELLEN. 

I 11. Soft Lyclian airs 

Married to immortal verse ; 
I Such as meeting soul may pierce, 

l In notes, with many a winding bout 

'< Of linked sweetness long drawn out, 

I With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, 

I The melting voice through mazes runr 4g, 

Untwisting all the cords that tie 

I The hidden soul of harmony. 

< Milt H—L'Allegr&: 

\ 

\ 12. Words to the witches in Macbet' unknown ; 

\ Hydraulics, hydrostatics, and pi\ umatics, 

Chlorine, and iodine, and (Ei'ostJics. 



13. The light guitar j 

Its holiest time the evening star, 
When liquid voices echo far. 



Halleck. 



J. G. Percival. 



14. Cataracts that blow their trumpets from the steep ! 

Wordsworth. 

15. Through your very heart it thrilleth. 
When from crimson-threaded lips 
Silver-treble laughter triileth. 



< Tennyson. 



3C^ 

I 152 

\ 16. The cricket's chirp, and the answer shrill 

I Of the gauze-winged katydid. 

\ J. R. Drake. 



17. Naught as the music o^ praise and prayer 
Is half so sweet. 

BOWRING. 

18. Notes heard far off; so far, as but to seem 
Like the faint exquisite music of a dream. 

Moore. 

19. A solemn c?z>^e ; now swelling high 

^n lofty strains, and now in cadence soft, 
Seeming to die away upon the ear; 
Then swelling loud again, reaching the skies, 
As if to mingle with the music there. 

Mrs. Dana 

20. Distance-mellow'' d song, 
. From bowers of merriment. 

SOUTHEV 

21. The melancholy strain of that sad hird 

Who sounds at night the warning note, that shuts 
The delicate young flowers. 

W. G. SIMMS. 

> 22. The glad voice, the laughing voice of streams, 

*> And the low cadence of the silvery sea. 

\ Mrs. He mans. 






153 

23. Old songs of love and sorrow. 



Mary Howitt. 



24. The lively air 
When love enlists the serenader^s skill. 

Mrs. Dana. 

25. The musical confusion 
0^ 'hounds and eclio in conjunction. 

Midsummer NighVs Dream. 

J 

26. When o'er the clear still water swells 

The music of the Sabbath bells. 

W. C Bryant. 

I 27. A deep and thrilling song, 

I Which seems with piercing melody to reach 

I The soul, and in mysterious union 

I Blend with all thoughts of gentleness and love. 

? SOUTHEY. 

I 28. Ever wakeful echo ; 

The nymph of sportive mockery, that still 
I Hides behind every rock and every dell, 

And softly glides, unseen, from hill to hill ; 

No sound doth rise but mimic it she will. 
^ Theodore Fay. 

< 29. The sounding Viol ; 

} When eyes with speaking glan&es, 



^)S 



154 

Kindle high with pleasure, 
As rings the well-known strain; 
With easy gliding motion, 
Involved in graceful fancies, 
Of light uncertain measure, 
Responds the fairy train. 

J. G. Percival. 

30. Low whisperings in boats, 

As they shoot through the moonlight, with drippings 
of oa^. 

Moore. 

31. • The hunter^ s shout, 
When clanging horns swell their sweet winding 

notes. 
The pack idde-opening on the trembling air 
With various melody. 

SoMERViLLE — The Chace 



/ ] 32. The sounds awaken 'd there 

In the Pine leaves fine and small, 
Soft and sweetly musical, 
By the fingers of the air. 

J. G. Whittier 



33. The song oi spirits that will sometimes sail 
Close to the ear, a deep, delicious stream, 
\ Then sweep away, and die with a low wail. 

Croly — Angel of the World, 



^ 155 

\ 34. The roar 

Of ocean's everlasting surges, 

Tumbling upon the beach's hard-beat floor, \ 

I Or sliding backward to the shore, 

\ To meet thQ landward wave, and slowly plunge 

I once more. \ 

\ J. R. Lowell. \ 

35. The rivulet, which > 

Sending glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed j 

Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, > 

Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice > 

In its own being. | 

W. C. Bryant. 

36. A damsel singing to herself 

A song of Jove ly snatches ; breaking off 

If but a flower, an insect on the wing 

Please for an instant, then as carelessly 

The strain resuming. 

Rogers — Italy. 

37. The sound of the church-going hell, 
When it bursts on the ear with its full, rich swell. 

Miss M. Davidson. 



38. The brisk, awakening viol, 
Whose sweet, entrancing voice you love the best. 

Collins. 

39. The NacJchird's merry chant. Bold plunderer ! 
How sweet to hear his mellow burst of song 



'^ 



I 156 

I 

\ Float from his watch-place on the mossy tree, 

\ Close at the cornfield's edge ! 

? .J. McLellan. 

V 40. The sound of music at even-fall, . 

\ ' Filling the heart 

I With a flow of thought and feeling sweet, 

I When lips that we Jove breathe forth the song. 

\ Louisa P. Smith. 

41. The harp Eolian ; 

Faintly at first it begins, scarce heard, and gentle 
its rising, 
I Low as the softest breath that passes at summer 

\ evening ; 

^ Then, as it swells and mounts up, the thrilling 

I melody deepens, 

I . Till a mightier, holier virtue comes with its power- 
l ful tone. 

i * SOUTHEY. 



42. The chirp of birds, blithe voices, lowing kine, 
The dash of waters, reed, or rustic pipe. 
Blent with the dulcet, distance-mellovv'd hell. 

HiLLHOUSK. 



^ 43. A song of love and jollity e, 

\ To drive away dull melancholy. 

\ Spenser. 



157 

44. Preluding low, soft notes' that faint and tremble, 

Swelling, awakening, dying, plaining deep ; 
\ While such sensations in the soul assemble, 

As make it pleasant to the eyes to weep. 

Mrs. Maria Brooks 

45. Song of maids beneath the moon, 
With fairy laughter blent. 

W. C. Bryant. 

46. To hear the glorious swell 

Of chanted psalm and prayer, 
And the deep organ's bursting heart 
Throb through the shivering air. _ 

J R. Lowell. 

47. A noise like of a hidden hrook, 

In the leafy month of June, 
That to the sleeping woods all night 
Singeth a quiet tune. 

Coleridge. 



48. Approaching trumpets, that with quavering start, 

ancing to the heart. 
Leigh Hunt — Rimini, 



On the smooth wind come dancing to the heart. 



49. A laugh full of life, without any control 

But the sweet one of gracefulness, rung from the 
soul, - I 

Moore — Lalla Rookh. ] 



153 



50. Fifes, comets, drums , 

That rouse the sleepy soul to arms, aud bold 

Heroic deeds 

SoMERViLLE — The Chacc. 



i 51. A little song, 

\ Neither sad nor very long. 



Barry Cornwall. 



\ 52. A voice of music in the rustling leaves, I 

When the green boughs are hung with living lutes, ^ 

\ Whose strings will only vibrate to His hand 

5 Who made them. i 

] Miss H. F. Gould. \ 

■i 

^ 53. The drums beat in the mornin', afore the scriech o' 

i day, 

I And the wee, wee fifes piped loud and shrill, while 

S , . i 

yet the morn is gray. \ 

\ Motherwell I 

I }, 

54. The unseen hawk \ 

\ Whistling to clouds, and sky-born streams. 5 

> Wordsworth s 

1 \ 

\ 55. . The low, sweet shell, 5 

By whose far music shall thy soul be haunted. ^ 

Miss Landon \ 



56. The trumpet's war-note proud, 
The trampling and the hum ! 



Macaulay. 



\ , - 159 

\ 

] 57. A pattering sound 

< Ofripen'd acorns, rustling to the ground 

I Through the crisp, wither'd leaves. 

\ Mrs. Whitman 

\ 58. Birds and hrooks from leafy dells, 
Chiming forth unwearied canticles. 

Wordsworth. 

59. When the organ peal, loud rolling, meets 
The halleluiahs of the choir ; sublime, 
A thousand notes symphoniously ascend. 
As if the whole were. one; suspended high 
In air, soaring heavenward, afar they float. 
Wafting glad tidings to the sick man's couch. 

Grahame — The Sabbath. 

60. Tinldings of a vigilant guitar. 

Of sleepless lover to a wakeful m" stress. 

Byron 



WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLOWERI^ 



I would I had some flowers of the Spring that might 
Become your time of day ; and yours ; — and yours. 

Winter's Tale. 

I send thee flowers, oh dearest, and I deem 
That from their petals thou wilt hear sweet words, 
Whose m usic, sweeter than the voice of birds, 
When breathed to thee alone, perchance may seem 
All eloquent of feelings unexpress'd. 

Park Benjamin. 

A garland lay him by, made by himself 

Of many several flowers, 

Stuck in that mystic order that the rareness 

Delighted me 

Beaumont and Fletcher. 






"K 



WHAT IS YOUS FAYOSITE FLOWER ? 



■i!^l' 



HE sensitive plant, the earliest 
Up-gathered unto the bosom of rest, 
A sweet child, weary of its delight, 
The feeblest, and yet the favorite. 
Cradled within the embrace of night. 
Shelley. 



2. The jasmine; 

Pride of Carolina's early Spring! 

Fairy land 
Is not more beautiful, than when, full blown, 
The jasmine, gilt by the Creator's hand, 
Hangs all around us. 

Mrs. Dana. 



3. Hyacinllis, ringing their soft bells 
To call the bees from the anemonies. 
Jealous of their bright rivals' glowing wealth. 

Miss Landon. 



164 \ 



4. Primroses^ 
Which, when the lengthen'd shadows fall 

Like soft dreams o'er the earth, 
And all around a sabbath reigns 

As at creation's birth, 
Burst the magic bands of clay, 
And greet with smiles the sun's last ray. 

Miss M. E. Lee. 

5. The chaste camelia's pure and spotless bloom, 
That boasts no fragrance, and conceals no thorn. 

W. ROSCOE. 



(). The light snowdrops, which, starting from their cells, \ 
' Hang each pagoda Avith their silver bells. I 

O. W. Holmes. \ 



7. A tulip, which Titania may have chosen 
For rest or revelry, to feast or doze in. 

Miss Moise, 

8. Roses, 
Beautiful each, but different all ; 
One with that pure but crimson flush, 
That marks a maiden's first love blush ; 

One, 
Pale as the snow of the funeral stone ; 
Another, rich as the. damask die 
Of a monarch's purple drapery ; 



165 

And one hath leaves like the leaves of gold 
Worked on that drapery's royal fold. 

Miss Landon. 

9. The hare-lell on the heath, 

The forest tree beneath, 

Which springs like elfin dweller of the wild ; 

Light as a breeze astir 

Stemm'd with- the gossamer, 

Soft as the blue eyes of a poet's child. 

Mary HowiTT. 
* 

10. Thou sweet daisy, common-place 
Of nature, with that homely face. 
And yet, with something of a grace, 
Which love makes for thee ! 

Wordsworth. 

11 The good old passion-flower f 
It bringeth to thy mind 
The young days of the Christian church. 
Dim ages left behind. 

Mary Howitt. 

12. Sweet peas on tiptoe for a flight. 

With wings of gentle flush o'er delicate white, 
And taper fingers, catching at all things. 
To bind them round about with tiny rings. 

Keats. 



-5S 



166 

13. Hearths case. One could look for half a day 
Upon tills flower, and shape in fancy out 
Full twenty diirercnt tales of love and sorrow, 
That gave tliis gentle name. 

Mary Howitt. 



14. The humble rosemary, 

Whose sweets so thanklessly are shed 
To scent the dead. 



15. The primrose, all bepearl'd with dew. 
So yellow, green, and richly too. 
Ask you why the stalk is weak, 
And bending, yet it doth not break ? 
I must tell you these discover 
What doubts and fears are in a lover. 



Moore. 



Carew. 



16. Those greater far than all 

Our blessed Lord did see, 
The lilies beautiful, which grew 
In the fields of Galilee ! 

V. Mary Howitt. 



17. A little flower, which 

Before the bolt of Cupid fell milk-white, 

Now purple with love's wound. 
And maidens call it love-in-idleness. 

Midsuynmer NigliVs Dream. 



.>? 



; 167 ^ I 

< 18. The lilac, various in array — now white, \ 

[ Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set \ 

\ With purple spikes pyramidal, as if, 

\ Studious of ornament, yet unresolved | 

Which hue she most approved, she chose them all. \ 

COWPER. \ 

19. King-Clip, with its canary hue ; 

'Twas from this goblet Psyche drew \ 

The nectar for her butterflies. 
\ Miss Moise. \ 

<> 20. Jasmine, with her pale stars shining through 
\ The myrtle darkness of her leaf's green hue. 

\ Mrs. Norton. 

i 21. The water-lilies, that glide so pale, 

As if with constant care 

Of the treasures which they bear; 

For those ivory vases hold 

Each a sunny gift of gold. 

Miss Landon. 

|»22. Daffodils, 

■ That come before the swallow dares, 

] And take the winds of March with beauty. 

^ Winter's Tale. 

I 23. Sweet ivild-flowers, that hold their quiet talk 

\ Upon the uncultured green - 

] Mrs. Gilman. 

k.... 



168 i 

24. The virgin lilies in their white, 

Clad but with the lawn of almost naked white. 

Cowley. 

25. The hyacinth, for constancy, wi' its unchanging 

blue. 

Burns, 



26. Blue pelloret, from purple leaves up-slanting \ 

A modest gaze, like eyes of a young maiden, | 

Shining beneath dropp'd lids, the evening of her i 

wedding. I 

Dr ke. \ 

27. A tulip just open'd, offering to hold 

A butterfly gaudy and gay. 
Or rocking its cradle of crimson and gold. 
Where the careless young slumberer lay. 

Miss Gould. 



28. She comes — the first, the fairest thing 
That heaven upon the earth doth fling, 

Ere winter's star has set ; 

She dwells behind her leafy screen, 

And gives as angels give — unseen, — 

The violet! 

Barry Cornwall. 

29. The rich magnolia, 

High priestess of the flowers, whose censer fills 

The air. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 



^' 



169 



i 30. Cereus, 

{ Who wastes on night's dull eye a blaze of charms. | 

\ Darwin. \ 



I 31. The scarlet creepei'^s bloom, 

\ When 'midst her leaves the humbird's varying dyes 

Sparkle like half-seen fairy eyes. 
I Dr. S. H. Dickson. 

\ 

32. You love the sweet geranium's smell, 

Its scollop'd leaves, and crimson flower ; 
\ Of days long passed it seems to tell, 

\ And memory owns its magic power. 

; Miss Maria James 

\ 33. The wayside iveed of homeliest hue, 

\ Looking erect up to the golden blue. 

For thus it speaketh to the thinking mind — 

" O'erlook me not : I for a purpose grew ; 

\ On us one sunshine falls !" 

: Thomas Miller. 



34. The last violet 

That sheds its fragrance on the chill, damp air 
Of a November morn, like love in death. 

» Lady Flora Hastings. 

35. The peony, with drooping head. 

Which blows a transient hour, 
And gently shaken in the breeze, 
Descends a crimson shower. 

Miss Maria James. 



15 



], 30. The blue fleur-de-lis, in the warm sunlight shining, \ 
\ As if grains of gold in its petals were set. | 

{ Mary Howitt. \ 

\ 

] 37. The pale and delicate narcissus' flowers, 

< Bending so languidly, as still they found 

I - In the pure wave a love and destiny. 

I Miss Landon. 

? 

,^ 38. The violet's azure eye, 

I Which gazes on the sky, 

\ Until its hue grows like what it beholds. 

\ Shelley. 

39. 1 rie evening primrose, \ 
O'er which the wind might gladly take a pleasant \ 

sleep, \ 

But that 'tis ever startled by the leap \ 

Of buds into fresh flowers. ^ 

Keats. \ 

s 

40. The clematis, all graceful and fair ; \ 

You may set it like pearls in the folds of your hair. | 

Mrs. a. M. Wells. \ 

\ 

\ 41. The tulip, 

\ Whose passionate leaves with their ruby glow 

> Hide the heart that is burning and black below. 

\ Miss Landon. < 



.171 

42. The almond, though its branch is sere, 
With myriad blossoms beautiful ; 
As pink, as is the shell's inside. 

Mary Howitt. 



43. Lilies for a bridal bed, 
Roses for a matron's head, 
Violets for a maiden dead — 
Pansibs let thy flower be. 



Shelley. 



44. The harherry-husJi, 

Whose yellow blossoms hang, 
As when a child by grassy lane 
Along you lightly sprang. 



Mrs. Oilman. 



45. The shower 
Wets not a rose that buds in beauty's bower 
One half so lovely as the sweet hrier ; 

for it grows along 

The poor man's pathway, by the poor man's door. 

Brainerd. 

46. The low dwarf acacza, that droops as it grows. 
And the leaves, as you gather them, tremble and 

close. 

Mrs. A. M. Wells. 



47. The cowslip, that, bending 
With its golden bells, 



172 

Of each glad hour's ending, 
With a sweet chime tells. 



Miss Landon. 



\ 48. The beautiful clover, so round and red ; 
There is not a thing in twenty, 
That lifts in the morning so sweet a head, 
Above its leaves on its earthly bed, ^ * 

With so many horns qf plenty. 

Miss H. F. Gould. 



A lily flower, 
The old Egyptian's emblematic mark 
Of joy immortal, and of pure affection. 

Wo] 



\ 50. Mignionetie, the little nun, 

\ In meekness shedding soft perfume. 

5 Miss P. Moise. 

I 

{ 51. The heliotrope, whose gray ^nd heavy wreath 

\ Mimics the orchard blossom's fruity breath. 

\ Mrs. Norton. 



^ 52. The \\m\di jasmine-huds, that keep 

; Their odors to themselves all day, 

> But when the sunlight dies away, 

i Let the delicious secret out. 



Moore. 

^ 



173 - i 



. < 



53. Violets dim, 

But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes, 
Or Cytherea's breath. i 

Winter^s Tale. \ 



\ 54. Fox-glove, whose purple vest conceals 

J Its hollow heart. 

s Miss Moise. 

^55. The Tiousatonia cerulea, 

\ Its snowy circle ray'd 

With crosslets, bending its pearly whiteness round, 

\ While the spreading lips are bound 
< With such a mellow shade, 

\ As in the vaulted blue 

i Deepens at midnight or grows pale 

J When mantled in the full moon's slender veil. 
\ Percival. 



56. ^ The lihj, 

Imperial beauty, fair unrivall'd one ! 
What flower of earth has honor high as thine. 
To find thy name on His unsullied lips 
Whose eye was light from heaven ! 

Miss H. F. Gould. 



\ 57. The little ivindJloiDer, whose just open'd eye 
\ Is blue as the Spring heaven it gazes at; 

\ Startling the loiterer in naked paths 

With unexpected beauty. 

W. C. Bryant. 



15* 



174 

\ 58. The tariling arbutus, shrouding its grace, 

I Till fragrance bewrayeth its hiding-place. 
\ Mrs. SiQOURNEY. 

<; 

\ 59. The ivoodhine loild. 

\ 

] That loves to hang on barren boughs remote 

< Her wreaths of flowery perfume. 

< W. Mason — The English Garden. 

\ 

^ 60. The Naiad-like Uhj of the vale, 

\ Whom youth makes so fair and passion so pale, 

\ That the light of its tremulous bells is seen 

\ Through their pavilions of tender green. 

Shelley. 




'W> 



WHAT GRATIFIES YOUK TASTE OR \ 
YOUR AFFECTIONS? \ 



We like not most vrliat most is twin to self, \ 

But that wMch best supplies the void within." \ 



...^ 



WHAT GRATIFIES YOUR TASTE, OR YOUR 
AFFECTIONS? 




O walk in choice gardens, 

And from variety of curious flowers 

Contemplate nature's workmanship 

and wonders. 

Massinger. 

You love to wander by old ocean'' s side, 
And hold communion with its sullen tide, 
To climb the mountain's everlasting wall, 
And linger where the thunder-waters fall. 

Sprague. 



3. Happy children at their play, 

Whose hearts run over into song. 



J. R. Lowell. 



I 4. Dogs of grave demeanor, 

\ All meekness, gentleness, though large of limb. 

i * Rogers — Italy. 



M 



I 178 ' 1 

\ 5. Old legends of the monkish page, \ 

Traditions of the saint and sage, \ 

Tales that have the rime of age \ 
And character of eld. 

Longfellow 



6. Gentleman. — A locJc, a leaf, 

That some dear girl has given ; 
Frail record of an hour, as brief 
As sunset clouds in heaven, 
But spreading purple twilight still 
High over memory's shadow'd hill. 

O. W. Holmes. 



^ 6. Lady. — There's little that you care for now, 
Except a simple wedding ring. 

Thomas Miller. 

7. Fruits that have just legun 
To flush on the side that is next the sun. 

H. F. Gould. 

8. Gentleman. — You do wish that you could be 
A sailor, on the rolling sea ; 

In the shadow of the sails 
You would ride and rock all day. 

Going whither blow the gales, 
As you've heard the seamen say. 

L S. NoBLfi. 



179 

8. Lady. — -By the low cradle thou delight'st to sit 
Of sleeping infants, watching their soft breath. 

Charlotte Smith. 

9. You like a ring, an ancient ring, 

Of massive form, and virgin gold ; 
As firm, as free from base alloy- 
As were the sterling hearts of old. 

G. W. DOANE. 

10. There's a room you love dearly, the sanctum of 

bliss. 
That holds all the comforts you least like to miss ; 
Where, like ants in a hillock, you run in and out. 
Where sticks grace the corner, and hats lie about. 
With book-shelves, where tomes of all sizes are 

spread, 
Not placed to be look'd at, but meant to be read. 

Eliza Cook. 

11. Gentleman. — Ah, how glorious to be free, 
\ Your good dog by your side, 

With rifle hanging on your arm, 
To range the forest wide. 



11. Lady. — To look into the smooth 

Clear glass, 
Where as you bend to look, just opposite. 



E. Peabody ? 



7i^ 



180 ^ 

A shape within the polish'd frame appears \ 

Bending to look on you. \ 

Milton, modified. \ 

12. Your sociable piazza, — you prize its quiet talk, 
When arm in arm with one you love you tread the 

accustom'd walk, 
Or loll within your rocking-chair, not over nice or 

wise, 

And yield the careless confidence where heart to 

heart replies. 

Mrs. Oilman. 

13. An eye that will mark 
Your coming, and look brighter when you come. 

Byron. 



14. Give you a slight flirtation, \ 

By the light of a chandelier, | 

With music to fill up the pauses > 

And nobody very near. ^ 



N. P. Willis. 



15. Give all things else their honor due, 
But gooseierry-pie is best. 



SOUTHEY. 



16. An ever drizzling raine upon the lofte, \ 

Mixt with a murmuring winde, much like the \ 

\ sownde i 

I Of murmuring bees. ; 

\ Spenser — Fairy Queen. \ 



181 



J IT. Oh, sweeter than the marriage feast, 
^ ^Tis sweeter far to thee, 

To walk together to the kirk 
With a goodly company. 

Coleridge — Ancient Mariner. 

18. The world below hath not for thee 

Such a fair and glorious sight, 
As a noble sJiip on a rippling sea 
In the clear and full moonlight. 

Eliza Cook. 

19. Gentleman. — A noNe liorse, 
With flowing back, firm chest, and fetlocks clean, 
The branching veins ridging the glossy lean, 
The mane hung sleekly, the projecting eye 
That to the stander near looks awfully. 

The finish'd head in its compactness free, 
Small, and o'er-arching to the bended knee, 
The start and snatch, as ifhe felt the comb, 
With mouth that flings about the creamy foam. 
The snorting turbulence, the nod, the champing, 
The shift, the tossing, and the fiery tramping. 

Leigh Hunt — Rimini. 



19. Lady.— Your witless puss ; 

While many a stroke of fondness glides 
Along her back and tabby sides, 
Dilated swells her glossy fur, 
And softly sings her busy pur ; 



}^ 



^5? 



182 

As timing well the equal sound, 

Her clutching feet bepat the ground, 

And all their harnalcss claws disclose 

Like prickles of an early rose, 

While softly from her whisker'd cheek 

The half-closed eyes peer mild and meek. 

Joanna Baillie. 

20. The tall larch sighing in the burial place, 
Or willow trailing low its boughs, to hide 
The gleaming marble. 



21. The dance, 

Pleasant with graceful flatteries. 



W. C. Bryant. 



Miss Landon. 



22. You rather look on smiling faces, 

And linger round a cheerful hearth, 

Than mark the stars' bright hiding-places. 

As they peep out upon the earth. 

Mrs. Welby. 

23. Wreathy shells, with lips of red, 
On a beach of whiten'd sand. 

HOSMER. 

24. When to the startled eye the sudden glance 
Appears far south, eruptive, through the cloud. 
And following slower, in explosion vast, 

The thunder raises his tremendous voice. 
5 Thomson — Seasons. 






183 



\ 

\ 25. Gentleman. — " 'Tis heaven to lounge upon a 

^ couch," said Gray, 

*' And read new novels through a rainy day." 
Add but the Spanish weed, the bard was right. 

Sprague. 

25. Lady. — Your moralizing knitting-work, whose 
I threads most aptly show 

I How evenly around life's span our busy threads 

\ should go ; 

s And if a stitch perchance should drop, as life's frail 

\ stitches will, 

I How, if we patient take it up, the work will prosper 

still. 
I Mrs. Gilman. 

26. 'Tis pleasant, by the cheerful hearth, to hear 
Of tempests, and the dangers of the deep, 

> And pause at times, and feel that we are safe, 

\ Then listen to the perilous tale again, 

I And with an eager and suspended soul 

^ Woo terror to delight us. 

SouTHEY — Madoc. 

27. The moon, 
Which kisseth every where, with silver lip, 

Dead things to life. 

^ Keats. 

\ 

\ 28. The insect, that when evening comes, 

\ Small though he be, and scarce distinguishable. 



I 184 j 

Unsheaths his wings, and through the woods and \ 

glades \ 

I Scatters a marvellous splendor. • <, 

Rogers — Italy - 



29. When down the green lane come heart-peals of 

laughter, 
For school has sent its eldest inmates forth, 
And when a smaller band comes dancing after, 
Filling the air with shouts of infant mirth. 

Mrs. Scott. 

30. A couch near to a curtaining, 
Whose airy texture, from a golden string 
Floating, into the room permits appear 
Unveil'd, the summer heaven, blue and clear. 

Keats. 

31. Dear to your heart are the scenes of your child- 

hood, 
When fond recollection presents them to view. 
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild- 
wood. 
And- every loved spot which your infancy knew. 

WoODWORTH. 

32. To seek the patient ^5/«er'.? silent stand, 
Intent, your angle trembling in your hand ; 
With looks unmoved to lure the scaly breed. 
And eye the dancing cork and bending reed. 

Pope. 



\ 185 

I 33. Converse, which qualifies for solitude, 

I As exercise for salutary rest. 

5 Young — Night Thoughts. 



\ 34. Gentleman.— To follow, fleetest of the fleet, 
The red deer, driven along its native plains. 
With cry of hound and horn. 

Wordsworth. 

34. Lady. — One wild-flower from the path of love, 

All lowly though it lie, 
Is dearer than the wreath that waves 
To stern ambition's eye. 

H. T. TUCKERMAN. 

35. The laugh-provoking _pMw; absurd 
Though it be, far-fetched, hard to be discern'd. 
It serves the purpose if it shake our sides. 

Grahame. 

36. You have a wish, and it is this — that in some un- 

couth glen. 

It were your lot to find a spot, unknown by selfish 
men. 

Where you might be securely free, like eremite of 
old, 

From worldly guile, from woman's wile, and friend- 
ships brief and cold. 

Motherwell. 



16* 



J 186 

\ 

> 37. You love the fields, the woods, the streams, 

\ The wild-flowers fresh and sweet, 

5 And yet you love no less than these 

I The crowded city street ; 

< For haunts of men, where'er they be, 

\ Awake your deepest sympathy. 

\ Mary Howitt. 

38. Sleep, — soft closer of our eyes, 
Low murmurer of tender lullabies. 

Keats. 

39. You love the sweet Sahlath, that bids in repose 
The plough in its mid- furrow stand. 

Dr. Gilman. 

40. Pleasant it is when woods are green, 
\ ■ And winds are soft and low, 

To lie amid some sylvan scene, 
\ Where, the long drooping boughs between, 

\ Shadows dark and sunlight sheen 

$ Alternate come and go. 

\ Longfellow. 

1 

^ 41. Gentleman. — To beat the surges under you, 

\ And ride upon their backs ; to tread the water 

\ Whose enmity you flung aside, and breast 

s The surge most swollen, that meets you ; your bold 

\ head 

J 'Bove the contentious waves keeping, and oar \ 



187 

Yourself with your good arms, in lusty stroke 
To the shore. 

Tempest. 

41. Lady. — Beside the Aimness o^ i\\e glimmering sea, 

with a dear friend to linger, 
Beneath the gleams of the silver stars. 

Shelley. 

42. To pluck some way-side flower, 
And press it in the choicest nook 
Of a much-loved and oft- read hook. 

J. R. Lowell. 



^ 43. A wheel-footed studying -chair, 
\ Contrived both for toil and repose, 

J Wide-elbow'd, and wadded with care, 

In which you both scribble and doze. 

COWPER. 

44. Gentleman.— Hurrah for you ! the wind is up, it 
bloweth fresh and free. 
And every chord, instinct with life, pipes out its fear- 
less glee ; 
Big swell the bosom'd sails with joy, and they mad- 
I ly kiss the spray, 

< As proudly through the foaming surge the sea-king 

bears away. 
\ Motherwell. 



188 

44. Lady. — To place your lips to a spiral shell, 
And breathe through every fold ; 
Or look for the depth of its pearly cell, 
As a miser would look for gold. 

Miss H. F. Gould. 



45. Gentleman. — The soil to tread 

Where man hath nobly striven, 
And life like incense hath been shed 



An offering unto heaven. 



Mrs. Hemans. 



45. Lady. — The old study-corner by a nook. 
Crowded with volumes of the old romance. 

N. P. Willis. 

46. Ay, 'tis to you a glorious sight 

To gaze on ocean's ample face ; 
An awful joy, a deep delight, 

To see his laughing waves embrace 
Each other, in their frolic race. 

George Lunt. 



47. You love the pictures that you see 
At times in some old gallery ; 
You love them, although art may deem 
Such pictures of but light esteem. 

Mary Howitt. 



\ 189 . . 

\ 48. Gentleman. — A brown cigar, 

s A special, smooth-skinn'd, real Havanna. 

i Motherwell. 

\ 48. Lady. — Your quiet, pleasant chamber, with the 

I rose-vine 

\ Woven round the casement. 

^ Miss Mitford. 

49. Old looks to read ! 
Ay, bring those nodes of wit. 

The brazen- clasp'd, the vellum writ, 

Time-honor'd tomes. 

Henry Carey. 

50. A youthful mother to her infant smiling, 
Who with spread arms, and dancing feet. 
And cooing voice, returns an answer sweet. 

Joanna Baillie. 

51. Gentleman. — To be toss'd on the waves alone, or 

mid the crew 
Of joyous comrades, now the reedy marge 
Clearing, with strenuous arm dipping the oar. 

Wordsworth. 

51. Lady. — When the sail is slack, the course is slow, 

That at your leisure, as you coast along. 

You may contemplate, and from every scene 

Receive its influence. 

Rogers. 



190 

52. An antique chairs 
Cusliion'd with cunning luxury. 

N. P. Willis. 

53. You love a hand that meets your own 

With grasp that causes some sensation ; 
You love a voice whose varying tone 
From truth has learn'd its modulation. 

Mrs. Osgoou. 

54. When each and all come crowding round to share 

A cordial greeting, the beloved sight ; 
When welcomings of hand and lip are there, 

And when these overflowings of delight 
Subside into a sense of quiet bliss, 
Life hath no purer, deeper happiness. 

SOUTHEV. 

55. Oh yes, the poor man's garden ! 

It is great joy to thee, 
This little, precious piece of ground, 

Beside his door to see. 
For in the poor man's garden grow 

Far more than herbs and flowers, 
Kind thoughts, contentment, peace of mind, 

And joy for weary hours. 



\ 56. To be sad, and say nothing. 



Mary Howiti. 



As You Like It. ^ 



IS. 



191 

57. Sweet poetry, the alchymy 

Which turneth all it toucheth into gold. 

Mrs. Dana. 



58. Gentleman. — With a swimmer's stroke 

To fling the billows back from your drench 'd hair, 
And laughing from your lip the audacious brine ; 

rising o'er 

The waves as they arise, and prouder still 
The loftier they uplift thee ; then, exulting, 
With a far-dashing stroke, and drawing deep 
The long suspended breath, again to spurn 
The foam which breaks around thee, and pursue 
Thy track like a sea-bird. 

Byron — The Two Foscari. 



58. Lady. — A needle, which though it be small and 
tender, 
Yet it is both a maker and a mender, 
A grave reformer of old rents decay'd. 
Stops holes, and seams, and desperate cuts dis- 
played ; 
And for your country's quiet, you would like 
That womankind should use no other pike. 
It will increase their peace, enlarge their store, 
To use their tongues less, and their needles more. 
The needle's sharpness profit yields and pleasure, 
But sharpness of the tongue bites out of measure. 
John Taylor — Needle's Excellency. 



\ ^^^ I 

59. Infant charms , \ 
Unconscious fascination, undesign'd ; \ 
The orison repeated in your arms, | 
The book, the bosom on your knee reclined, \ 
The low sweet fairy lore to con. \ 

Campbell — Gertrude of Wyoming. 

60. With Shakspeare's self to speak and smile alone, 
And no intruding visitation fear 
To shame the unconscious laugh, or stop your 

sweetest tear. 

Campbell — Gertrude of Wyoming 



v^ 



\ FOR WHAT HAVE YOU A DISTASTE 
OR AVERSION? 



" I do not like you, Dr. Fell— 
" The reason why I cannot tell ; 
" But this I know full well, 
« I do not like you, Dr. Fell." 



[ . _^^ ^_ J 



FOR WHAT HAYE YOU A DISTASTE OR 
AYERSION? 




ENTLEMAN.— Three loud talking 

women, 
That are discoursing of the newest 

fashion. 
■«^ John Tobin. 

1. Lady.- — Ye say, " There is naething I hate like the 

men, 

" But the deuce gae wi'm to believe me." 

Burns. 

2. The banquet-hall, the play, the ball. 

Have lost their charms for thee. 

G. P. Morris. 

3. It's hardly in a body's power 

To keep at times frae being sour, 

To see how things are shared ; 

How best o' chiels are whiles in want. 

While coofs on countless thousands rant, 

And ken na how to wair't. I 

Burns. s 

is 



2^ 

> 196 

4. Oh, it is sad to look upon 

The play-place of our youthful hours, 
And mark what wasting change hath run 

As fire amid its bowers, 
And sear'd its greenwood tree, and left 
A trunk all blacken'd and bereft ! 

J. W Miller. 

5. Conversation, when reduced to say 

The hundredth time what -you have said before. 

k Mrs. Sigourney. 

6. You never speak the yvoxA farewell 

But with an utterance faint and broken, 
A heart-sick yearning for the time 
When it shall never more be spoken. 

Bowles. 

7. Gentleman. — Now, my lord, as for tripe, it's your 

utter aversion. 
\ Goldsmith — Haunch of Venison. 

\ 7. Lady. — An exquisite of the highest stamp. 

i Albert Pike. 

8. To see 

\ Things of no better mould 

' Than thou thyself art, greedily 

In Fame's bright page enroU'd. 
\ Motherwell. 



\ ■""^'^ \ 

\ 9. Weaving spiders. — i 

\ Hence, you long-legged spinners, hence ! 5 

< Midsummer Night's Dream. \ 

10 You have no taste for pomp and strife, ] 

} Which others love to find ; | 

i Your only wish, that bliss of life, > 

A poor and quiet mind. l 

\ Clare 



11. You like not this phrenology, 
This system of unfolding 
The secret of a man's desires 
To every one's beholding. 



R. M. CHARLTOpi. 



i 12. The sullen passion, and the hasty pet, 

j The swelling lip, the tear-distended eye, 

i The peevish question, the perverse reply. 

i Hayley — Triumphs of Temper. 

\ 13. Nor do you love that common phrase of guests, 

\ As, we make hold, or, we are troublesome ; 

\ We take you unprovided, and the like ; 

^ nor that common phrase of hosts, 

^ Oh, had I known your coming, we^d have had 

\ ' Such things and such; nor blame of cook, to say, 

I This dish or that hath not been served with care. 
Thomas Heywood and Richard Broome — 

The Late Lancashire Witches. 



i 



17* 



I 198 

< 

j 14. Tales of love were wont to weary you; 

' I know you joy not in a love-discourse. 

\ Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

15. 'Tis a dreary thing to be 
Tossing on the wide, wide sea, 
When the sun has set in clouds, 

And the wind sighs through the shrouds, 
With a voice and with a tone 
Like a living creature's moan ! 

Epes Sargent. 

16. To hear the French talk French around you, 

And wonder how they understand each other; 
To hearken, and find all attempts confound you 
At guessing what they mean by all their pother. 
Byron — Giuseppino-. 

17. Books t out upon them ; faithless chroniclers. 
Mere wordy counsellors — cold comforters 

In the hour of sorrow. 

Lady Flora Hastings 

18. Your curse upon the venom'd slang 
That shoots your tortured gums alang, 
An' through your lugs gies mony a twang, 

Wi' gnawing vengeance ; 
Tearing your nerves wi' bitter pang. 
Like racking engines. 

Burns. 



21. Age is dark and unlovely; it is like the glimmer- 

ing light of the moon when it shines through 
broken clouds, and the mist is on the hills : the' 
blast of the north is on the plain ; the traveller 
shrinks in the midst of his journey. 

OSSIAN. 

22. To have odd quirks and remnants of wit broken on 

you. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

23. Whenever a change is wrought, 
And you know not the reason why, 

In your own or an old friend's thought. 

Barry Cornwall. 



199 \ 

19. As for stupid reason^ i 

That stalking, ten-foot rule, I 

She's always out of season, ^ 

\ A tedious, testy fool. ] 

I Mrs. Follen. i 



20. Gentleman. — -That most active member of mortal 5 

things, / 

A womari's tongue ; something like a smoke-jack, i 

For it goes ever, without winding up. I 

John Tobin — Honey Moon. j 

I 20. Lady. — You would ratherhear your dog bark at a \ 

crow, ' \ 

Than a man swear he loves you. i 
Much Ado About Nothing. 



%. 



I 200 



< 24. You are weary of the endless theme of Cupid's 

5 smiles and sighs, 

^ You are sick of reading rigmaroles about " my 

lady's eyes;" 

You cannot move, you cannot look around, below, 

above. 

But men and women, birds and bees, are prating 

about love. 
\ R. M. Charlton. 

\ 25. You hate ingratitude more in man, 

i Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, 

\ Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption 

^ Inhabits our frail blood. 

Twelfth Night. 

I 26. There are haughty steps that would walk the globe 5 

\ O'er necks of humbler ones; \ 

] You would scorn to bow to their jewell'd robes, 

\ Or the beam of their coin-lit suns. 

I Miss L. P. Smith. 



27. You'd rather hear a brazen candlestick turn'd. 

Or a dry wheel grate on an axle-tree. 
And that would set your teeth nothing on edge, 
Nothing so much as mincing poetry. 

Henry IV. 

28. In your soul you loathe 
All affectation. 'Tis your perfect scorn, 
Object of your implacable disgust. 

CowpER — Task. 



201 



> 29. Gentleman. — To pick up fans and knitting-needles, 

5 And list to songs, and tunes, and watch for smiles, 

I And smile at pretty prattle. 

Byron — Werner. 

29. Lady. — An a lover be tardy, you had as lief be 

wooed of a snail ; for though the snail comes 
slowly, he carries his house on his head. 

As You Like It. 

30. That the king should reign on a throne of gold, 
Fenced round by his power divine ; 

That the haron should sit in his castle old, 
Drinking his ripe red wine ; 
While below, below, in his ragged coat, 
The beggar he tuneth a hungry note. 
And the spinner is bound to his weary thread. 
And tho debtor lies down with an aching head. 

Barry Cornwall. 

31. Lighted halls, 
Cramm'd full of fools and fiddles. 

R. C. Sands. 

32. To hear 
The roaring of the raging elements. 

To know all human skill, all human strength 
Avail not ; to look round, and only see 
The mountain wave, incumbent with its weight 
Of bursting waters o'er the reeling bark ; — 



-.^^ 



202 

Oh, God, this is indeed a dreadful thing? 
And he who hath endured the horror once 
Of such an hour, doth never hear the storm 
Howl round his home, but he remembers it, 
And thinks upon the suffering mariner. 

SouTiiEY — Madoc. 

33. I perceive you delight not in music. 

Merry Wives of Windsor 



34. You hate the gold and silver which persuade 
Weak men to follow far-faiiguing trade ; 
Who madly think the flowery mountain's side, 
The fountain's murmur, and the valley's pride. 
The river's flow, less pleasing to behold 
Than dreary deserts, if they lead to gold. 

Collins — Eclogues 



35. To climb life's worn and heavy wheel, 
Which draws up nothing new. 

YouNcs — Night Thoughts. 



36. To tax a had voice to slander music. An he had 

been a dog that should have howled thus, they 
would have hanged him. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

37. It moves you more perhaps than folly ought, 
When some green heads, as void of wit as thought, 



\ 203 

^ Suppose themselves monopolists of sense, 

\ And wiser mens' ability pretence. 

\ COWPER. 

< 

I 38. Gentleman. — A woman moved, which like a foun- 
\ ■ tain troubled 

(Is) muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty, 
\ And in no wise is meet or reasonable. 

Taming of the Shrew, 

38. Lady. — The heavens preserve me 
From that dull blessing, an obedient husband. 

ToBiN^i/oney Moon. 

39. You're tired of visits, modes, and forms, 

And Jlatteries paid to fellow- worms ; 

Their conversation cloys. 

Dr. Watts. 

40. The spider, that weaver of cunning so deep. 
Who rolls himself up in a ball to sleep. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 

41. A fly that tickles the nasal tip. 

Miss H. F. Gould. 

42. Man delights not thee ; no, nor woman neither. 

Henry IV. 

43. Church-yards unadorned tvith shades 
And blossoms Naked rows of graves 



i 204 I 

\ \ 

\ And melancholy ranks of monuments; I 

\ " where the coarse grass between \ 

j Shoots up its dull green spikes, and in the wind 

\ Hisses ; 

\ where the neglected bramble 

5 Grows near the dead. 

\ Bryant. 

: 44. You all punctilios hate, 

Though long familiar with the great. 
I Swift. 

< 45. That he who's right, and he who swerveth, 

I Meet at the goal the same, 

I Where no one hath what he deserveth, 

> 

I Not even an empty name. 

\ Barry Cornwall. 

46. Wooing, wedding, and repenting. 
\ Much Ado About Nothing. 

47. Soft-buzzing slander— silky moth that eats 

An honest name. 

< Thomson. 

48. The blood-extracting bill and filmy wing, 

The light pump, and freckled feet — 

I Of the inusquito. 

I Bryant 

\ 49. You do not like but yet ; 

I But yet is as a jailer to bring forth 5 

; Some monstrous malefactor. \ 

i Antony and Cleopatra. ^ 



i 205 ^ 

50. Gentleman. — You'd rather 

Ride a day's hunting on an outworn jade, 
Tham follow in the train of a great man 
In his dull pageantries. 

Byron — Werner. 



50. Lady. — Never yet did housewife notable 
Greet with a smile a rainy washing-day. 

Mrs. Barbauld. 

51. Thou dread 'st to see 
The glowing summer sun, 

And balmy blossoms on the tree 
Unfolding one by one ; 
They speak of things which once have been. 

But never more can be : 
And earth all deck'd in smiles again 

Is still a waste to thee. 

Sarah H. Whitman. 

52. Softest winds are dreary. 
And summer sunlight weary, 
And sweetest things uncheery. 

You know not why. 



J. R. Lowell. 

53. . The Guinea-hen, 

Which keeps a piercing and perpetual scream. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 



S? 



206 

54. Sleep, infested with the burning sting 
O^ bug infernal, who the live-long night 
With direst suction sips thy liquid gore. 

Robert Ferguson 

55. When you behold a spider 
Prey on a fly, a magpie on a worm, 

Or view a butcher, with horn-handled knife, 
Slaughter a tender lamb as dead as mutton, 
Indeed, indeed you're very, very sick ! 

Horace and James Smith — Rejected Addresses. 



56. Where'er that place the priests ca' hell, 
Whence a' the tones oi' misery yell, 
And ranked plagues their numbers tell, 

In dreadfu' row, 
Thou, toothache, surely bear'st the bell 
Amang them a' ! 

57. You scorn this hated scene 

Of masking and disguise, 
Where men on men still gleam 

With falseness in their eyes, 
Where all is counterfeit, 

And truth hath never say. 
Where hearts themselves do cheat, 

Concealing hope's decay. 
And, writhing at the stake, 
Themselves do liars make. 



Burns. 



Motherwell. 



207 

58. You call the time misspent that is bestow'd 
On loud-tongued orators, whose art it is 

To launch their hearers upon passion's tide, 
And drive them on by gusts of windy words. 

Cumberland— CaZrary. 

59. You do despise a liar as you do despise one that is 

false, or as you despise one that is not true. 
Merry Wives of Windsor. 

60. Songs and unbaked poetry, 
Such as the dabblers of our time contrive, 

'That has no weight, nor wheel to move the mind, 
Nor indeed .nothing but an empty sound. 

Beaumont and Fletcher — The Elder Brother. 



WHERE OR WHAT WILL BE YOUR 
RESIDENCE! 



The world was all before her, where to choose 
Her place of rest, and Providence her guide. ' 

Milton 

The mind is its own place, and of itself 
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. 

Milton. 



I /VN.'V/S.A.^^rw^^N.- 



WHERE OR WHAT WILL BE YOUR 
RESIDENCE? 




^t-s^^^^£ EAR some fair town you'll have i 
^M/M.iC:W% private seal, 

Built aniform, not little, nor too great 
It shall within no other things contain 
But what are useful, necessary, plain 
^^P A little garden grateful to the eye, 
"<j^^ While a cool rivulet runs murmuring by. 

PomfreVs Choice. 




^ ^ 2. Amongst the vines, 

See'st thou not where thy villa stands ? The moon- 
beam 
Strikes on the granite column, and mountains 

Rise sheltering round it. 

Lady Flora Hastings. 

3. Child of the town and hustling street, 
What woes and snares await thy feet ! 



Thy paths are paved for many miles, 

\ Thy groves and hills are peaks and tiles. 
\ Allan Cunningham. 

s 4. A warm hut simple ho7ne, where thou'lt enjoy 

\ With one, who shares thy pleasures and thy heart, 

\ Sweet converse, sipping calm the fragrant lym.ph 

\ Which neatly is prepared, 

^ COWPEU. 

\ 
f 

I 5. Loiv in'the glen, 

' Down which a little stream hath furrow'd deep 

I 'Tween meeting birchen boughs, a shelvy channel, 

'i And brawling mingles with the western tide. 

\ Far up the stream, almost beyond the roar 

) Of storm-bulged breakers, foaming o'er the rocks 

) With furious dash, your lowly dwelling lurks, 

\ Surrounded by a circlet of the stream. 

I Before the wattled door, a greensward plat 

^ With daises gay, pastures a playful lamb. 

I A pebbly path, deep-v/orn, leads up the hill, 

> Winding among the trees, by wheel untouch'd. 
; On every side it is a shelter'd spot, 

I So high and suddenly the woody steeps 

Arise. One only way. downward the stream, 

s J ust o'er the hollow, 'tween the meeting boughs, 

I The distant wave is seen, with now and then 

> The glimpse of passing sail ; though when the breeze 
I Cresteth the distant wave, this little nook 

\ Is all so calm, that on the limberest spray 



'?§ 



I 213 ■ I 

^ The sweet bird chanteth motionless, the leaves 

I At times scarce fluttering. \ 

/ Grahame — Birds of Scotland, i 

I ^ 

> 6. Neat is your house ; each table, chair, and stool \ 

Stands in its place, or moving, moves by rule ; 
I No lively print or picture grace the room, 5 

\ A plain brown paper lends its decent gloom. J 

Crabbe. \ 

I 

7. A summer lodge amid the wild, — ^ 
'Tis shadow'd by the tulip-tree, 'tis mantled by the 

vine ; 
The wild plum sheds its yellow fruit from fragrant 

thickets nigh. 

And flowery prairies from the door stretch till they 

meet the sky. 

Bryant. 

8. Beside a public way, 

Thick strewn with summer dust, and a great stream 

Of people hurrying to and fro. 

Shelley. 



9. Crowning a gradual hill, your mansion swells 
In ancient English grandeur ; turrets, spires. 
And windows, climbing high from base to roof, 
In wide and radiant rows, bespeak its birth 
Coeval with those rich cathedral fanes, 
(Gothic ill-famed,) where harmony results 



25^ 



214 I 

\ 
From disunited parts ; and shapes minute, > 

At once distinct and blended, boldly form | 

One vast majestic whole. 

W. MasoxN — The Enslish Garden. 



10. In a proud city and a rich, 

A city fair and old, 
Fill'd with the world's most costly things, 

Of precious stones and gold ; 
Of silks, fine wool, and spiceries, 



And all that's bought and sold. 



Mary Howitt 



11. I see, I see the rustic porch, 

And close beside the door 
The old elm, waving still as green 

As in the days of yore. 
I see the wreathing smoke ascend 

In azure columns up the sky, 
I see the twittering swallow 

Around in giddy circles fly. 

T. McLejllan. 

12. A house, whence, as by stealth, you catch 

Among the hills a glimpse of busy life, 

oths, not stirs. 

Rogers. 

; 13. In stately dwelling built of squared Iricke. 

SpENSr'R. 




215 

14. A city, that great sea whose ebb and flow 
At once is deaf and loud. 
In its depth what treasure — you will see. 

Shelley. 

3 5. In a fair and stately mansion, with old woods 
Girdled around. 

HOWITT 

16. A loio, sweet home, 

A pastoral dwelling with its ivied porch, 
And lattice, gleaming through the leaves. 

Heivians. 

17. You shall dwell in some bright little isle of your 
I own, 

\ In a blue summer ocean far off and alone, 

I Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming 

:; bowers, 

< And the bee banquets on through a whole year of 

I flowers. 



Moore. 



18. You scarce upon the borders enter, 
Before you're at the very centre. 
Though small your farm, it has a house 
Full large to entertain a mouse ; 
But if it's enter'd by a rat, 
There is no room to bring a cat. 
Round your garden is a walk 



J^^ 



216 

No longer tnan a tailor's chalk ; 
One salad naakes a shift to squeeze 
Up through a tuft you call your trees, 
And, once a year, a single rose 
Peeps from the bud, but never blows. 
In vain then you'll expect its bloom, 
It cannot blow for want of room. 
In short, in all your boasted seat 
There's nothing but yourself thsit^s great. 



Swift. 



19. Your island lies nine leagues away ; 

Along its solitary shore 
Of craggy rock, and sandy bay. 

No sound but ocean's roar, j 

Save where the bold, wild sea-bird makes her home, \ 

c 

Her shrill cry coming through the sparkling foam. $ 

R. H. Dana. 

\ 

20. Sweet sights, sweet sounds, all sights all sounds | 

excelling ; \ 

Oh, 'tis a ravishing spot, form'd for a Poet's dwell- { 



ing! 



Drake. 



21. A city 

\ Where trade and joy in every busy street 

i Mingling are heard, and in whose crowcZe^^'or/* \ 

] The rising masts an endless prospect yield. \ 

\ Thomson. \ 



I 217 

I 22. A valley, from the river shore withdrawn, 

I Shall be your home — two quiet woods between, 

[ Whose lofty verdure overlooks the lawn ; 

I And waters, to their resting-place serene, 

\ Come freshening and reflecting all the scene.. 



Campbeix. ^ 

23. "^ Please step in 
And visit roun' an' roun' ; 

There's naught superfluous to gie pain 

Or costly to be foun'. 
Yet a' is clean. 

Allan Ramsay — Gentle Shepherd. 

24. A whitewash'd wall, a nicely sanded floor, 

A varnish'd clock that clicks behind the door, 
A chest contrived a double debt to pay, 
A bed by night, g, chest of drawers by day ; 
While broken tea-cups, wisely kept for show, 
Ranged on the chimney, glisten in a row. 

Goldsmith — Deserted Village. 

25. How beautiful it stands. 

Behind its elm-trees' screen. 
With simple attic cornice crown'd, 
All graceful and serene ! 

Mrs. Sigournby 

26. O'er the glad waters of the dark blue sea. 

Your thoughts as boundless and your soul as free, 



^.. 



19 



X 



218 

j Far as the breeze can bear, the billows foam, 
I Survey your empire, and behold your home / 

^ Byron. 

j 27. A pastoral scene of your own land, 

I Groves darkly green, neat farms, and pastures gay 

\ With golden flowers ; brooks stealing over sand, 

j Or smooth- worn pebbles, murmuring light away ; — 

I Blue rye-fields, yielding to the gentle hand 

\ Of the cool west wind; scented fields of hay, 

\ Falling in purple bloom ! 

\ Percival. 

X 28. A pleasant aspect shall your parlor wear, — 

\ Pictures, and busts, and books, and flowers, 

j And a light hearth where one may sit for hours, 

And feel the minutes in their rapid flight. 

Yet never think to count them as ihey go ; 

The mind, in converse sweet, beguiled so. 

Mrs. a. M. Wells. 

29. A light commodious chamber 
Looking out to the hills, and where the shine 
Of the great sun may enter. 

M»ARY HOWITT 

30. It is a chosen plot of fertile land, 
Emongst wide waves sett, like little nest, 
As if it had by nature's cunning hand 
Bene choycely picked out from all the rest, 
And laid forth for ensample of the best. 

SpenseH " 



J 



^ 



I 219 

\ 

\ 21. A mansion, where domestic love 

And truth breathe simple kindness to the heart ; 

Where wliite-arm'd childhood twines the neck of 

age ; 

Where hospitable cares light up the hearth, 

Cheering the lonely traveller on his way. 

Mrs GiLMAN. 

32. Thine be -a cot beside the hill: 

A beehive's hum shall sooth thine ear ; 

A willowy brook that turns the mill 

With many a fall, shall linger near. 

Rogers. 

33. The dense city's roofs 

Throng around thee, and the vertic' sun 

Pours from those glowing tiles a fervid heat 

Upon your shrinking nerves. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 

34. A lodge of ample size, 

But strange of structure and device ; 

Of such materials, as around 

The workman's hand has readiest found. 

Scott. 

35. Among the jumbled heap of murky buildings. 

Keats, 

36. You will be blest as now you are with friends, and 

home, and all \ 



\ . 220 

I That in the exulting joy of love your own you \ 

b fondly call ; 

I Beloved and loving faces, that you've known so 

long and well, 

The dear familiar places where your childish foot- 

steps fell, 

Where you join'd with careless heart and free 

I your playmates' blooming band, 

I As happy still as now in this, — you'll tread your 

I native land. 

^ Mrs. Osgood. 

I 

^ 37. On the well-sloped banks arise trim clumps, 

\ Some round and some oblong, of shrubs exotic ; 

) While, at respectful distance, rises up 

\ The red brick wall, with flues and chimney-tops 

And many a leafy crucifix adorn'd. 

The smooth expanse, 

Well cropp'd, and daily, as the owner's chin, 

Not one irregularity presents. 

Not even one grassy tufl in which a bird 

May find a home and cheer the dull domain. 

Grahame — Birds of Scotland. 

38. The city's gloom, that falls 

Where the same window fronts the same dull walls ; 
To see new, weary idlers tread once more 
The mud or dust, which crowds have trod before, 
Or the gay chariot loiter to await 
Some fool you scorn, or envious flirt you hate. 
Dr Brown — Bower of Spring. 



I 221 

i 39. A lone dwelling, built by whom, or how, 

\ None of the rustic island people know. 

i The isle and house are thine. — 

\ ^ Nature, with all her children, haunts the hill ; 

I The spotted deer bask in the fresh moonlight, 

\ Before thy gate. — Be this thy home in life. 

< Shelley. 

i 40. In a city vast and populous, 
\ Whose thronging multitude 

I Sends forth a sound afar off heard, 

Strong as the ocean flood ; 
A strong, deep sound of many sounds, 

Toil, pleasure, pain, delight, 
And traffic, myriad-wheel'd, whose din 
Ceases not day and night. 

Mary Howitt. 

41. A simple Tiome, 

A plain well-order'd household, without show 
Of wealth or fashion. 

Percival. 

I 42. All day within your dreary house 

> The doors upon their hinge will creak. 

\ The blue-fly sing in the pane, the mouse I 

\ Behind the mouldering wainscot creep, \ 

I Or from the crevice peer about. \ 

\ Tennyson. I 



222 j 

• 43. Upon a green hank side, j 

Skirting the smooth edge of a gentle river, \ 

Whose waters seem unwillingly to glide, \ 

Like parting friends, who linger ere they sever. < 

Drake. ; 

44. Where streets are stiflmg, bustling, noisy, dry ; 
Hot are the pavements as an oven floor ; 
Dingy-red brick grows tiresome to the eye. 

Mary Howitt. 

45. Refinement'' s chosen seat, 

Art's trophied dwelling,. learning's green retreat. 

Sprague. 

46. .1 know the spot ; 

The curtain'd windows half exclude the light, 

Yet eager still to make their way, 
A thousand elfin sunbeams bright. 

Glittering about the carpet play. 
But what attracts you chiefly there 
Is one who in a cushion'd rocking-chair 
Doth sit and read. 

Mrs. a. M. Wells. 

47. The wild wind sweeps across your low damp floors, \ 

And makes a weary noise and wailing moan ; | 

All night you hear the clap of broken doors, < 

That on their rusty hinges grate and groan * j 



'22S . 

And then old voices, calling from behind 

The worn and wormy wainscot, flapping in the 

wind. 

Thomas Miller. 

48. In simple western style. 
With all your chambers on the lower floor ; 
In fact, of stories you will boast no more 
Than simply one. 'Tis at the river's side, 
And near it grows a noble sycamore ; 

A velvet lawn of green, outspreading wide, 

Slopps smoothly down, to meet the ever-rippling 

tide. 

^ Mrs. Dana. 

49. It is a hoTrie to die for, as it stands 

Through its vine foliage, sending forth a sound 
Of mirthful childhood o'er the green repose 
And laughing sunshine of the pastures round. 

Hemans. 

50. Gay apartments. 
Where mimic life beneath the storied rcof 
Glows to th^ eye, and at the painter's touch 
A new creation glows along the walls. 

Arthur Murphy — Orphan of China. ^ 

51. Down by the hamlet's hawthorn-scented way, | 
Where round the cot's romantic glade are seen | 
The blossom'd bean-field, and the slopmg green. j 

Campbell. j 



224 

52. A lonesome lodge, 

That stands so lowe in lonely glen. 
The little windowe dim and darke 

Is hung with ivy, brier, and yewe ; 
No shimmering sun here ever shone, 

No halesome breeze here ever blewe. 
No chair, no table may you spye, 

No cheareful hearth, no welcome bed, 
Naught save a rojpe with running noose, 

That dangling- hangs up o'er your heade. 

Percy's Reliques — Heir of Linne. 



53. The mountains, the mountains ! amidst them is your 

home ; 
To their pure and sparkling fountains impatiently 

you come ; 
Their bleak and towering summits invade the dark 

blue sky, 
But o'er their rudest ridges your fancy loves to fly. 

Dr. S. H. Dickson. 

54. A lowly roof; 

Thou know'st it well, and yet 'twill seem more low 

Than it was wont to seem, for thou wilt be 

A visitant of loftier domes and halls, 

Meet for the feet of princes. 

Mrs. Sigourney 



55. 



S«" 



Your house a cottage more 
Than palace, and will fitting be 



225 

For all your use, not luxury. 
Your garden painted o'er 
With Nature's hand, not Art's, will pleasures yield 
Horace might envy in his Sabine field. 

Cowley. 

5°. You'll think yourself superbly off, though rather 

cramp'd in bed, 

If your garret keep the winter rain from dropping 

on your head. 

Albert Pike. 

57. A snug thack house ; before the door a green, 
Hens on the madding, ducks in pools are seen. 
On this side stands a barn, on that a byre, 

A peat-stack joins, an' forms a rural square. 
The house is yours, — there shall we see you lean 
And to your turfy seat invite a frien'. 

Allan Ramsay — Gentle Shepherd. 

58. It is a quiet picture of delight, 

Your humble cottage, hiding from the sun 
In the thick woods. We see it not till then, 
When at its porch. Rudely but neatly wrought, 
Four columns make its entrance ; slender shafts, 

^ The rough bark yet upon them, as they came 

I From the old forest 

5 Prolific vines 

< Have wreath'd them well, and half obscured the 

rinds 



i 226 

I Unpromising that wrap them. Crowding leaves 

i Of glistening green, aftid clustering bright flowers 

J Of purple, in whose cups throughout the day 

I The humming-bird wantons boldly, wave around 

I And woo the gentle eye and delicate touch. 

i This is the dwelling, and 'twill be to thee 

Quiet's especial temple. 
[ W. G. SiMMa 

59. That dear old home ! 

Something of old ancestral pride it keeps, 

Though fallen from its early power and vastness ! 

The sunlight seegris to thy eyes brighter there 

Than wheresoever else. 

Fanny Kemblk. 

60. In a vale with dwellings strown, 
One is standing all alone ; 
White it rises mid the leaves. 
Woodbines clamber o'er its eaves. 
And the honeysuckle falls 
Pendant on its silent walls. 

\ 'Tis a cottage small and fair ' 

\ As a cloud in summer air. 

j Park Benjamin 



WHAT IS YOUR DESTINY! 



You unconcern'd 
And calm, can meet your coming destiny, 
In all its charming, or its frightful shapes. 

Dr. Watts. 

I have an ear that craves for every thing, 
That hath the smallest sign or omen in it. 

Joanna Baillie. 

Let me deem that 

Some unknown influence, some sweet oracle'. 

Communicates between us though unseen, 

In absence, and ath-acts us to each other. 

Byron. 






■V 



WHAT IS YOUR DESTINY? 




E'LL draw a bonny silken purse ; 
Ye'll ca' your coach, ye'U ca' your 
horse. 

Burns. 



2. Of the present much is bright, 

And in the coming years I see 
A brilliant and a cheering light. 

Which burns before thee constantly. 

W. D. Gallagher. 

3. A better cellar nowhere can be found ; 
The pantry never is without baked meat, 
And fish and flesh, so plenteous and complete : 
It snows within your house of meat and drink, 
Of all the dainties that a man can think. 

Chaucer. 

4. Gentleman. — Thine never was a woman's dower 

Of tenderness and love ! 



H^ 



230 

Thou who canst chain the eagle's power. 
Canst never tame the dove. 

E. C. Embury. 

4. Lady. — Let me gaze for a moment, that ere I die 
I may read thee, lady, a prophecy. 

That brow may beam in glory awhile, 
That cheek may bloom, and that lip may smile. 
But clouds shall darken that brow of snow, 
And sorrow blight thy bosom's glow. 

Miss L. Davidson. 

5. The best establishment in the city, 

Coaches and horses, hounds and liveried servants. 

Mary Howitt. 

6. Thou seest only what is fair, 

I Thou sippest only what is sweet ; 

Thou wilt mock at fate and care. 
Leave the chaif, and take the wheat. 

R. W. Emerson 



7. Ye build, ye build, but ye enter not in ! 

Mrs. Sigourney. 



\ 8. I'll warrant thee from drowning, though thy 

i Ship were no stronger than a nut-shell. 

i Tempest. 

^ 9. The sea of ambition is tempest-toss'd, 
, And thy hopes may vanish like foam^ 



...^ 



23] 

But when sails are shiver'd and rudder lost, 
Then look to the light of Tiowze / 

Mrs. Hale. 

10. Your life's a summer even, 

Whose sun of light, though set 
Amidst the clouds of heaven, 

Leaves streams- of brightness yet. 

BowRiNa. 

11. In a narrow sphere, 
The little circle of domestic love, 

You will be known and loved ; the world beyond 
Is not for you. 

SOUTHEV. 

12. Thou dwell'st on sorrow's high and barren place. 
But round about the mount an angel-guard — 
Chariots of fire, horses of fire — encamp. 

To keep thee safe for heaven ! 

Mrs. Ellet. 

13. To cheer with sweet repast the fainting guest, 
To lull the weary on the couch of rest. 

To warm the traveller, numb'd with winter cold, 

The young to cherish, to support the old. 

The sad to shelter, and the lost direct — 

These are your cares, and this your glorious task ; 

Can heaven a nobler give, or mortals ask ? 

Sir William Jones. 



^» 



] 232 

14. The sordid cares in which you dwell 

Shrink and consume your heart. 

Bryant. 

15. A wide future is before you ; 

Your heart will beat for fame, 
And you will learn to breathe with love 

The music of a name. 
Writ on the tablets of that heart 

In characters of flame. 

J. O. Sargent. 

16. To grow in the world's approving eyes, 

In friendship's smile, and home's caress, 
Collecting all the heart's sweet ties 
Into one knot of happipess. 

Moore. 

17. Sorely harass'd, and tired at last with fortune's 

vain delusions, O, 
You'll drop your schemes like idle dreams, and 

come to this conclusion, O, — 
The past was bad, the future hid, the good and ill 

untried, O, 
But the present hour is in your power, and so you 

will enjoy it, O. 

Burns. 

\ 18. You will be blest exceedingly; your store 
\ Grow daily, weekly, more and more. 



S5 

233 

And peace so multiply around, 
Your very hearth seem holy ground. 

Mary Howitt 

19. With steady aim your fortune chase, 
Keen hope let every sinew brace. 
Through fair, through foul, urge on your race. 

And seize the prey ; 

Then cannie, in some cozie place, 

Thou'lt close life's day. 

Burns. 

20. In your dreams a form you'll view, 
That thinks on you and loves you too ; 
You start, and when the vision's flown 
You'll weep that you are all alone. 

H. K. White 

21. Quiet by day, 

Sound sleep by night, study and ease 

Together mix'd, sweet recreation, 

And innocence which most doth please. 

With meditation. 

Pope. 

22. Gentleman. — A gentle lover shalt thou be, 

Sitting at thy loved one's side ; 

She giving her whole soul to thee, \ 

Without a thought or wish of pride, I 

And she shall be thy cherish'd bride. \ 

J. R. Lowell. I 



234 

I 22. Lady. — Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, 
\ Thou shalt not escape calumny. 

Shaksfeark. 

23. . Every day 

A little life, a blank to be inscribed 

With gentle deeds, such as in after time 

Console, rejoice, whene'er you turn the leaf 

To read them, 

Rogers. 

24. Through many a clime 'tis yours to go. 

With many a retrospection cursed ; 
And all your solace is to know, 

Whate'er betide, you've known the worst. 

By RON. 

25. Rouse to some high and holy work of love. 

And thou an angel's happiness shalt know, 
Shalt bless the earth while in the world above ; 
The good begun by thee shall onward flow. 
In many a branching stream, and wider flow. 

Carlos Wilcox. 

26. You shall go down as men have ever done, 
And tread the pathway worn by common tramp. 

A. C. CoxE. I 

\ 27. Friendship shall still thy evening feasts adorn, \ 

^ And blooming peace shall ever bless thy morn, { 



235 

Succeeding years their happy race still run, 
And age unheeded by delight come on. 

Prior. 



28. Gentleman. — She's fair and fause that caused your 

smart, 

You will lo'e her mickle and lang ; 

She will break her vow, she will break your heart, 

And ye may e'en go hang. 

Burns. 

28. Lady. — Gay hope is yours by fancy led. 

Less pleasing when possess'd, 

The tear forgot as soon as shed,, 

The sunshine of the breast. 

^Gray. 



29. Single as a sti*ay glove. 

Fanny Kemele. 



30. Gentleman. — You will not waste your spring of 

youth \ 

In idle dalliance. You will plant rich seeds \ 

To blossom in your manhood, and bear fruit l 

When you are old. ^ 



HlLLHOUSE. 



30. Lady. — To shrine within your heart's core one I 

I dear image, \ 

t To think of it all day, to dream all night. \ 

\ Mary Howitt. < 



236 



31. The duties of a wedded life 
Hath heaven ordain'd for thee. 

SOUTHKTS 

32. To love, 
Love fondly, truly, fervently, and pine 

When you have told your love, and sue in vain. 

Wordsworth- 

33. Hope, and health, and " learned leisure," 
Friends, books, thy thoughts. 

Barry Cornwall. 

34. Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing ; 
Each morn will see some task begun. 

Each evening see it close ; 

Something attempted, something done. 

Will earn a night's repose. 

Longfellow. 

35. You will go east, you will go west, 

To seek for what you will not find, — 
A heart at peace with its own thoughts, 

A quiet and contented mind. 
You will seek high, you will seek low. 
But your search will be in vain. 



Landon 



36. A course of days composing happy months. 
And they as happy years ; the present still 
So like the past, and both so firm a pledge 



%. 



237 

Of a congenial future, that the wheels 
Of pleasure move without the aid of hope. 

Wordsworth. 

37. You will tread the path of fame, 
And barter peace to win a name. 

S. G. Goodrich. 

38. Each hour, each minute of your life 
Sliall be a golden holiday ; and if a cloud 
O'ercast thee, 'twill be light as gossamer. 

G. Coleman. 

39. A little, and content; 
The faithful friend, and cheerful night. 
The social scene of dear delight. 

The conscience pure, the temper gay, 
The musing eve and busy day. 

Thomas Warton. 

40. Live where your father lived, die where he dies; 
Live happy, die happy. 



41. You'll use up life in anxious cares. 
To la^'' up hoards for future years. 



POLLOK. 



Gay. 



^ \ 42. You think of all the bubbles men are chasing; i 

I They dream them worlds, because they're bright ^ 

> and fair : > 

\ ) 



238 

You sit down with your book, your fireside facing, 

And laugh to think of the wealth to which you 

are heir. 

Cranch. 

43. Impell'd with steps unceasing to pursue 

Some fleeting good that mocks thee with the view. 

Goldsmith. 

44. You'll have a clear and competent estate, 
That you may live genteelly, but not great ; 
As much as you can moderately spend, 

A little more, sometimes, to oblige a friend. 

PomfreVs Choice. 

45. Rich, hated ; wise, suspected ; scorn'd if poor ; 

Great, feared ; fair, tempted ; high, still envied 

more. 

Sir H. Wotton. 

46. Gentleman. — You lova 

A blooming lady, a conspicuous flower, 
Admired for beauty, for her sweetness praised. 
Whom you have sensibility to love, 
Ambition to attempt, and skill to win. 

Wordsworth. 

46. Lady. — I fain would give to thee the lovelies! 
things. 
For lovely things belong to thee of right. 

J. R. LoWELi 



I 239 

\ 47. Oh, you will still enjoy the cheerful day, 
^ Till many years unheeded by have roU'd; 

Pleased in your age to trifle life away, 

And tell how much you loved ere you grew old. 
Hammond — Love Elegies. 



48. Endless labor all along. 
Endless labor to do wrong. 



Dr. Johnson. 



49. A fearful sign stands in thy house of life, 

An enemy ; ^ a fiend lurks close behind 

\ The radiance of thy planet : — Oh, be warn'd ! 

i Coleridge. 

I 50. Thy God, in the darkest of days, will be 

Greenness, and beauty, and strength to thee. 

Barton. 

51. You were not meant to struggle from your birth, 

To skulk and creep, and in mean pathways range ; 

Act with stern truth, large faith, and loving will. 

Up and be doing. 

J. R. Lowell. 

52. Gentleman. — To die 'midst flame and smoke, 
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, 

And death-shots falling thick and fast 
As lightning from the mountain cloud. 

Halleck. 



JJ.. 



■2S' 



240 



52. Lady. — Death shall come 

Gently, to one of delicate mould like thee, 
As light winds wandering through groves of bloom 
Detach the delicate blossom from the tree. 

Bryant. 



53. I know that pleasure's hand will throw 

Her silken nets about thee, 
I know how lonesome friends will find 

The long, long days without thee ; 
But in thy letters there'll be joy, 

The reading, the replying ; 
They'll kiss each word that's traced by thee, 

Upon thy truth relying. 



54. Your life shall be as it has been, 
A sweet variety of joys. 



Bayley. 



R, H. Wilde. 



55. Neither poverty 

Nor riches, 
But godliness so gainful 

With content. 
No painted pomp nor glory that 

Bewitches ; 
A blameless life is your best monument, 
And such a life that soars a — 
Bove the sky, 
Well pleased to live, but better pleased to die. 

Hugh Peters. 



\ 241 

j 56. A life you'll lead 

I Which hath no present time, but is made up 

\ Entirely of to-morrows. 

I Joanna Baillis, 



\ 57. Gentleman. — I see Lord Mayor written on your 

forehead. 

Massing ER. 

57. Lady. — A marriage in May weather. 

Leigh Hunt — Rimini. 

58. You'll have never a penny left in your purse, 

Never a penny but three ; 
And one is brass, and another is lead, 
And another is white money. 

Percy's Reliques — Heir of Linne. 

59. You will double your life's fading space, 
For he that runs it well, runs twice his race ; 

And in this true delight, 
These unbought sports, this happy state, 
You will not fear, nor wish your fate ; 

But boldly say each night, 
" To-morrow let my sun his beams display, 
" Or in clouds hide them ; I have lived io-day." 

COWLKY. 

()0. Yet haply there will come a weary day. 
When, over-task'd at length, 



Q 



242 



Both Love and Hope beneath the weight give way. 
Then with a statue's smile, a statue's strength, 
Stands the mute sister Patience, nothing loth, 
And both supporting, does the work of both. 

Coleridge. 



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